A Question of Heroics
by Ductile
Summary: It is the Golden Trio's sixth year, and the newest DADA professor has arrived at Hogwart, bringing with her all the right answers AND all the right questions. Pairings are not determined as of yet. This story is AU as of the publishing of HBP.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that JKR has under copyright, neither do I own the rights to any quotes, references or otherwise mentioned materials

Author's Note: OK, so this is one of my bigger fics...I have around 20,000 words written of it so far, as well as archived at Twisting the Hellmouth. The goal that I set for myself when writing this piece of work was that, for once, I would write a fic where the main character was both believable and intelligent (I have a propensity towards creating Mary Sue's; I'm in detox for it, but the process is both overdramatic and rather painful; there are no patches for this particular addiction). Ultimately, I have created an original character that is entirely too much like my mother for my own peace of mind; I am, however, confident that she will prove as amusing and aggravating to you as she has been for me.

_**A Question of Heroics**_

**Prologue**

Brethany took in a shaky breath, then smoothed her skirt with trembling hands. Really, this couldn't possibly be any more difficult than standing before the panel of wand makers to prove that she had earned her wand making license. Setting her shoulders with a grim smile, she walked hesitantly into the Great Hall. The chattering halted as soon as the group of teachers caught sight of her.

"Ah, Brethany," blue eyes twinkled at her from across the table. Albus Dumbledore smiled brightly. "Please, do come in! I believe we may have left you some supper." Brethany managed to work up a small smile as she approached the table. Oh, dear…all those sharp eyes, staring at her… "May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore indicated her, and eyes widened in shock. "Brethany Lewis, these are your fellow staff members, Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration professor; Filius Flitwick, Charms professor; Sybil Trelawney, Divination professor; Irma Pince, our librarian; Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures professor; Pomona Sprout…" As the introductions continued, Brethany met the eyes of each person and nodded in acknowledgement. Inside, she threw up her hands in defeat; names were definitely not her strong point. Maybe she could ask that they wear name tags for the first few weeks? A smile fought its way to her face just as the last introduction was made. "…Severus Snape, Potions professor." Her smile faded; oh, dear…

Severus Snape sneered slightly at the young woman. Merlin, she was young! What had Albus been thinking?! She looked surprisingly collected for being such a young adult, but Snape could also see the slight tremble in her hands.

"Professor Snape," Brethany acknowledged him quietly, nodding her head in greeting.

"Oh, no need for that, dear," the school nurse…Pomfrey!...grinned at her. "Just call us by our given names. I am Poppy, and that is Severus, but don't mind him, he's always grumpy when he has a potion waiting for him." The Potions teacher scowled, and Brethany suddenly began to feel more at home. Really, they were just a bunch of overgrown teenagers. Gossipy, incredibly talented and experienced teenagers, but teenagers nonetheless.

"You may call me Professor Snape," the man told her sharply. "I do not permit _children_ to address me by my given name." He glared at her critically. "I see the Defense position is still holding its regrettable loathsome luck. Really, Albus, even with the history of that position, was it necessary to contract a naïve little girl for the job?"

Behind Brethany, someone inhaled sharply. She was holding back a laugh as she regarded the dark man before her. "Professor Snape," the young woman spoke evenly, "Hogwarts has survived many years with a senile old man as headmaster; I am quite certain she will survive with a naïve little girl as the Defense teacher. Perhaps the position needs a change of scenery in order to break its 'regrettably loathsome luck'." She held his gaze calmly, her mouth twitching slightly as they both ignored the shocked gasps behind her. Really, she hadn't had so much fun since she left home!

"Hogwarts may have survived, but that is not to say that she remains untouched," Snape spoke wryly, his black eyes glinting. "Still, you cannot be much worse than many of our former teachers."

Brethany raised an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment, Professor Snape?" she asked drolly, smirking slightly.

Snape raised an eyebrow as well. "Take it as you wish, Miss Lewis. Meanwhile, I must attend to a potion." With a brusque nod to his colleagues, the man swept out of the hall, his robes billowing behind him.

"Oh, my…" Brethany turned around to see Minerva McGonagall smiling at her in bemusement. "You may indeed take that as a compliment, Brethany. Severus rarely says such things, and he always means it."

"Congratulations, Brethany, on succeeding where many others have faltered," Albus told her happily. "You have prevailed against Severus Snape using his own weapons against him."

Brethany grinned. "Oh, he's just like my brothers. They enjoy making subtle digs at people without their targets ever realizing it. I'm quite familiar with sarcastic taunts and witty debates. I think I like the Potions professor."

"Well then," Poppy smile at her brightly, "You have half the difficulty I teaching here conquered."

The Defense teacher frowned. "What's the other half?"

"Now you simply have to establish yourself with the students," Minerva told her sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder. "Don't concern yourself overly much; it is quite likely that you will survive the experience."

Brethany eyed the older woman suspiciously. That had not sounded particularly reassuring.

Word Count: 768

----Please feel free to review...I actually enjoy getting flames...they're so ridiculously useless by their very design, which is to build the flamer's ego up while at the same time tear down the flamee's...if you look at it that way, I just feel sorry for the people who do nothing but leave flames...ah, well...


	2. Chapter 2

Previously…

"_Well then," Poppy smile at her brightly, "You have half the difficulty I teaching here conquered."_

_The Defense teacher frowned. "What's the other half?"_

"_Now you simply have to establish yourself with the students," Minerva told her sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder. "Don't concern yourself overly much; it is quite likely that you will survive the experience."_

_Brethany eyed the older woman suspiciously. That had not sounded particularly reassuring._

And Now…

Brethany had never been intoxicated in her life, but that morning, she wished she were. The previous night had gone well…she had gotten no sleep, but at least she had all her materials together. She had an hour until her first class, and she was absolutely, completely and utterly terrified. Admitting to this was easy; fixing it, not nearly so.

She slowly made her way into the DADA classroom, wincing slightly at how bare it was. She had cleaned the room herself, emptying it of all portraits, artifacts, posters and photos that had accumulated over the years. The reasons behind this purging of the room would be explained in each class over the next few days. As it was, the _only_ thingin the classroom other than desks and chairs was a single bookshelf on the back wall, filled with books and parchments.

Brethany's first class consisted of the sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. It was a double class, which meant for her first teaching experience, she would have two solid hours of the most volatile class in the entire school. She had been warned, of course, and thus had very good idea of what to expect if she did not immediately take control of the class.

Half an hour to go…. Brethany resorted to sitting at her desk and organizing the same exact contents that she had organized the evening before. The more she tried not to think about what was about to happen, the further her courage sank. Fifteen minutes…

"You look much like I did on my first day," a deep male voice echoed through the room, and Brethany's head whipped up. In the doorway stood a tall, skinny man with sandy brown hair. He walked toward her, smiling warmly. "I am Remus Lupin, a former Defense teacher. I had to speak with Albus about something, and thought that I would give you a few words of encouragement."

"Lupin?" Brethany smiled and shook his hand gratefully. "Minerva told me about you, said you were the only good teacher they had in almost fifteen years. Thank you for stopping in." She chuckled slightly. "I sound rather like a clerk in a store, don't I?"

Lupin laughed. "You sound like a new teacher on her first day. Do you think you're ready?"

Brethany drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Yes. Yes, I do think so." She flashed his a quick smile. "Actually, do you have a couple hours? You could stay if you like, and then give me a few pointers afterward."

Lupin studied her face curiously, then laughed at her hopeful expression. "I do have some free time. I wouldn't mind at all. Where would you like me?"

Brethany grinned and walked over to the bookshelf. "I found a place back here last week when I moved the shelves. There's a hollow in the wall, with a seat, and if you move a few of the books there's an excellent view of the room. I think Albus used it to spy on his teachers at times, but he only hummed and winked when I asked him about it." Lupin chuckled lightly as he poked his around the bookcase to look at the indicated space. "Only ten minutes until class, so you'd better get in. There's a cushioning charm on the seat and walls, so it's rather comfy, and I cleaned it thoroughly, so it shouldn't be musty." Brethany watched anxiously as the man folded his lanky frame into the niche. "Are you all right?" A slightly muffled reply reached her ears, then several books were moved on a middle shelf.

"It's quite nice, really. A little snug, but quite nice." Lupin's face peered through the hole in the shelves. "I'd best put a Notice-Me-Not on myself, though. Harry is standing behind you, by the way." Brethany stifled an 'eep!' of surprise as she whirled around to see the fore mentioned teenager.

"Mr. Potter!" she barely kept herself from stuttering, then took a deep breath and relaxed. Thank heaven for a sense of humor! "So you've caught us in the act! What price might you demand for your silence?" Harry Potter stared at her quizzically, a confused smile on his face.

"Ah…can I have a little time to think about it?" he asked, unsure of what was going on. "And can I ask what Remus is-?

"No time!" Brethany strode to her desk, gesturing for Harry to seat himself. The teenage boy did so slowly, casting one last look at Lupin, who gave a quick wink and nod.

There was a wild clatter as the students rushed in to get their chosen seats, and for a brief few minutes, there was utter chaos. Brethany was torn between amusement and horror at the behavior of the group as they chattered, argued and yelled across the to each other about the events of their summer and the few classes they had attended so far that day.

When at last some semblance of quiet seemed to be achieved, Brethany stood from her desk and approached the seated students. "Good morning," she spoke quietly, and nearly everyone went still and silent. "Good day," she repeated, eyes wandering over the jumble of teenagers. "My name is Professor Brethany Lewis. I'm sure many of you are wondering how someone as young as myself was selected for this post…" several students exchanged glances, "But let me assure you that I am quite qualified."

A girl, Gryffindor, raised her hand, and Brethany nodded. "So how old _are_ you, Professor Lewis?"

Brethany grinned. "I will be twenty-one on New Year's Eve." This startled them, she saw. Several of the Slytherin students, the blond boy, Malfoy, especially, were beginning to scowl in apparent disapproval. "Perhaps it would help if I gave you just a little background information," she spoke quietly.

"My family is originally from Britain, where my father was an auror and my mother a muggle nurse. When I was nine years old, my father moved our family over to the United States, where he took over a management position in the International Aurors Department." She paused for a moment, suddenly relaxed. "My father took care of the magical education of all his nine children, and I was taught for five years by he and his fellow aurors. When I took my O.W.L.s, I had thirteen OWLs," there was a quiet murmur at this, "And I did so well in NEWTs at age fifteen that I entered into two apprenticeships immediately after my sixteenth birthday." This caused an even louder murmur.

"I recently achieved my Masteries in Wandmaking and General Magical Defense, which I think you will agree makes me fully qualified for this position." Brethany enjoyed the wary look that had entered the Malfoy boy's eyes. Two Masteries by age twenty was truly an amazing thing. It required being in simultaneous apprenticeships, a great deal of power, very little sleep, and more patience than any one person could possess.

"So…" Brethany grinned at them, "Are you all comfortable?" There was a mutter of assent. Her grin widened. "Well, I am truly sorry to say this, but that is going to change. I would like all the girls on this side, and all the boys on the other." Protests immediately rose, but the Defense teacher simply raised her wand, and the noise died down.  
"Thank you. Now, there are an equal number of Slytherin and Gryffindor girls, so I want one of each at every desk." Protests rose even louder, and the boys looked on in trepidation, expecting the same mandate for themselves. Brethany gave a brisk wave of her wand, and every mouth was magically sealed shut. "Now," she spoke quietly, staring each girl in the eyes, "One Slytherin girl will sit with one Gryffindor girl, the same pair for the rest of this term. Once I remove this spell, I expect to hear silence in this room unless I ask for a response. If someone speaks out of turn, and this does include whispering, that person will find him or herself unable to speak for the entire day." She smiled rather sadistically. "The spell is wordless, so it is likely that only the Headmaster himself would be able to remove it."  
No one moved, and Brethany nodded her approval and removed the spell. "Very good. Now then, if the girls would take their seats, we can continue." There was a short stillness, then they reluctantly began moving. Once they had seated themselves, glancing doubtfully at each other, Brethany turned to the boys. "Well, now it's your turn. Draco Malfoy, would you step forward, please?" The blond boy stepped to the front. "And Ronald Weasley, also?" A tall, gangly redhead obeyed slowly, eyeing the other boy reluctantly.  
Brethany pulled a desk and two chairs to the center of the room and facing the other students. "Please have a seat here, you two." She didn't stop to see their reactions, but turned immediately to the other boys. "The rest of you may sit with whomever you please, but remember that I do not tolerate inattention in my class. Any disruptions will be punished immediately, and let me inform you now that I have a great deal of imagination when it comes to creating punishments." She paused and looked the students over. "I trust everyone understands?" They nodded hesitantly. "Good. Now, we will begin." She drew in a small breath. She could do this.  
"You may have noticed how bare this room is." It had been noted, of course. The entire room was undecorated, cold stone. It made for a rather bleak atmosphere. "I would like for this room to signify our approach to Defense Against the Dark Arts. There is no sign of past professors," here Harry Potter glanced toward the bookcase with a small frown, "No reminders of different things you have been taught at home in regards to the Dark Arts, and no indications of what may be learned in the future." Frowns began to emerge. "Essentially," she continued, "I am removing all preconceived ideas about this subject." Many of them seemed to understand, and a few even appeared to approve. "To demonstrate how each class period will begin, I will be having Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy answer a few questions for us."

Brethany removed two pieces of parchment from her desk and handed one to each boy. "On the parchment are a list questions, rather controversial questions that I wish for each of you two to answer, and the rest of you to think about. When I ask the question, Mr. Malfoy, you will answer first by reading the parchment. Mr. Weasley will then read the answer that appears on his own parchment, and we will discuss the answers." She waited to see if they would react, but neither spoke up.

Word Count: 1807


	3. Chapter 3

Previously…

_Brethany removed two pieces of parchment from her desk and handed one to each boy. "On the parchment are a list questions, rather controversial questions that I wish for each of you two to answer, and the rest of you to think about. When I ask the question, Mr. Malfoy, you will answer first by reading the parchment. Mr. Weasley will then read the answer that appears on his own parchment, and we will discuss the answers." She waited to see if they would react, but neither spoke up._

And Now…

"The first question: What is a Muggleborn witch or wizard, and what is his or her place in the Wizarding World?" There was immediately a stir of interest, and Brethany barely restrained herself from smirking; she had expected such a reaction. A hand rose into the air from the girls' side, and she nodded. "Yes, Miss…"

"Hermione Granger. What does that question have to do with the Dark Arts, Professor Lewis?" Brethany grinned; she had expected that, as well.

"Any of you may answer this question in turn: Under what cause does Voldemort make himself known?" She pointed to another girl. "Yes, Miss…"

"Zabini," the dark-haired Slytherin identified herself, "The Dark Lord fights in order to keep wizarding blood pure and thus the magic of the world balanced."

"That's a very comprehensive answer. Could I get an answer from one of the Muggleborn here? Yes, Mister…"

"Dean Thomas," the dark-skinned teenager replied nervously. "Ah…doesn't You-Know-Who fight because he's racist? I mean, isn't he just like Hitler? He thinks that purebloods are more powerful and better than halfbloods or Muggleborns. That can't be right because Hermione Granger gets the best grades in the whole school!" There was a mutter of agreement from the Gryffindors, while most of the Slytherins looked as though they'd bitten a lemon.

Brethany chuckled. "There are some definite similarities between Hitler and Voldemort, yes, and while I would agree with you about Miss Granger's prowess, I do not think that makes her extremely powerful, at least magically." She paused. "Magical power is not something that shows itself much here in school. Grades, while very important, show almost primarily learning skills only, which have very little to do with the magic itself. But we haven't uncovered any other information about the question as to what Muggleborns have to do with the Dark Arts. Mr. Potter," the entire class looked at the teenage boy, "What connection do you see between Muggleborns and the Dark Arts?"

"Well…because Voldemort and the Death Eaters use the excuse of exterminating any witch or wizard not of pure blood, Muggleborns are supposedly at the greatest risk of being killed some use of the Dark Arts."

"Anything else, Mr. Potter?" Brethany asked casually, noting the tightening of his jaw.

"I...yes, there is something else." Harry squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. "Because he grew up in a muggle orphanage where he was abused, Voldemort bears a grudge against muggles that has nothing to do with magical power and everything to do with revenge. Voldemort himself is a half blood, and he tried to get my mother, who was Muggleborn, to join him." In the ensuing shocked silence, Brethany smiled.

"Precisely, Mr. Potter. Voldemort's campaign for pureblood supremacy is not only hypocritical, but is also one of the greatest paradoxes known in the Wizarding World. Many would say that you, Mr. Potter, are closer to being a pureblood than Voldemort, because both your parents were magical." She grinned. "But that's a discussion for another day. For now, though, I think you all understand how the issue of Muggleborns is related to the Dark Arts." There were grudging nods from the majority of the class. "Very well, then! Mr. Malfoy, since you've had ample time to scan the answer, would you be so kind as to give one view on what a Muggleborn witch or wizard is, and what his or her place is in the Wizarding World?"

In the silence, Draco Malfoy breathed in slowly, his face a mask of indifference, and his eyes cool. He began to slowly read off the parchment in his hand. "A Muggleborn is a witch or wizard who was born of non-magical people, often squibs of the second or third generation." There was a stir from a few Gryffindors, the Muggleborns of that house and year. "Muggleborns are predominantly of average magical power, with a small percentage reaching the same level of power as the more powerful Purebloods." Malfoy's voice faltered slightly, then steadied. "The Laws of Magic, as originally proclaimed by Merlin himself, state that each Muggleborn witch or wizard is to be formally adopted by a pureblood family, thus ensuring that magical blood would be occasionally cleansed and strengthened by fresh blood. This law, though now ignored and largely unknown, has never been officially revoked." The entire room was in shocked silence. Brethany knew quite well that the law had been buried several hundred years previously; no one had noticed it in almost as long.

"The modern laws of the Wizarding World state that the Muggleborn witch or wizard has as many rights and privileges as Purebloods do. In 1853, Wilhelm Carmichael, who held a powerful position in the Wizengamot, put forth the proposal that Muggleborns be granted higher rights and privileges than Purebloods. He believed that this would not only give a minority group a better possibility of surviving, but also heighten the possibility of purebloods and Muggleborns intermarrying, thus dramatically strengthening the bloodlines. The proposal was denied." Malfoy let out a long breath as he laid the parchment down on the desk, looking as shell-shocked as his fellow students.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin," Brethany spoke quietly, her face serious. "Now, Mr. Weasley, would you please give your answer?" The redheaded Gryffindor swallowed, his horror apparent on his face. "Go ahead, Mr. Weasley," the teacher ordered him.

"Muggleborns a-are the genetic anomalies of the Wizarding World. Although some are the product of squibs intermarrying, there are also some that cannot possibly be so, such as Negroid Muggleborn." Several faces screwed up in confusion until Dean Thomas spoke quietly,

"He means black people. Like me and Lee Jordan."

Ron Weasley looked questioningly at the Defense teacher, who nodded silently for him to continue. "Because of this abnormal origin of a good percentage of Muggleborn, many purebloods consider the entire group to be of 'dirty blood'. Because it is unknown where or how or even what kind of magic comes from and into Muggleborns, it is considered dangerous to mix blood with them, lest the magic that the Wizarding World was built upon become mutated into some different, more dangerous, or less powerful form of magic." Several faces had gone pale. Dean Thomas and Hermione Granger looked rather as though they were going to be sick, likely because they had understood everything being said. The muggle science of genetics cast a great deal of light on the straits the Wizarding World was currently in, and it was obvious the two were familiar with the science.

"However, because no formal studies have been made, there is also a small faction among purebloods that believes that those Muggleborn not of squib descent are the only magical anomalies. Negro Muggleborn that may have the lingering traces of the Dark Magic Voodoo from their ancient ancestors, somehow are born with the vastly different magic of the Wizarding World. This, while disturbing to many, is not so important as may be expected, because of the minute chances of Negroid blood mixing with the normal Wizarding blood." Several people bristled at that and opened their mouths to protest, but Brethany spoke up.

"Before any of you decide to make a scene, please realize that these are facts being stated, not personal views." She paused as she watched them settle back down. "Also, be reminded that my warning still stands for those who speak out of turn." Several mouths clamped shut at that, and Brethany nodded in approval. "Mr. Weasley," she nodded for him to continue.

"Until such a time as it is proven that the magic of any Muggleborn is the same as, or not harmful to the magic of the Wizarding World, Muggleborn witches or wizards will be largely ignored in Wizarding society and politics. While they are legally granted the rights and privileges of citizenship, they lack the knowledge of and power in the Wizarding World that would permit them any social standing there. As such, they are the lowest class and least recognized in the Wizarding World." As the Weasley boy's voice faded into silence, the tension in the room rose.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Brethany spoke briskly, "Take ten points for your house." She walked back to her desk and picked up her own list of the questions. "I had initially thought that I could introduce another question into discussion today, but I think that this one has provided enough food for thought. Now, does anyone strictly disagree with either of the two answers?" For a long moment, the students simply exchanged glances, then several hands rose. The DADA teacher indicated one. "Miss…"

"Patil. I- doesn't it seem as though both answers are correct? I mean, both answers are made up of facts…some of them are facts about speculations, but they both make sense, don't they?" The Indian girl's voice trailed off into uncertainty, but many faces showed agreement.

"Certainly," Brethany nodded. "I don't know if any of you noticed, but both answers left a lot to be desired. The second answer, in particular, made it clear that there was a lack of evidence to definitively support that particular position. Both answers in and of themselves, however, neither contradict nor confirm each other. We are left with simple speculation." She grinned; none of them seemed to like that.

"As your first homework assignment, then, I want the two people at each desk to choose a question off this list." The young woman banished a copy of the list to every desk. "Each pair of you will work together at research, one of you from the point of view of a Pureblood elitist and the other from that of a Muggleborn sympathizer. I want each pair to write six inches on the answers, three inches from each point of view. Keep in mind," she warned them, "That for every offensive word I read, ten points will be deducted from the overall grade, and you will find yourselves in detention very quickly." She smiled slightly as a few students blanched.

"Very well, then. If you need help for anything, feel free to visit me in my office. Also, fourth through seventh years have the same homework assignment, so you may compare notes so long as you do not copy from each other's work. You are dismissed early, so don't disrupt any other class." There was an instant clambering for the door. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter, could I speak with you three for a moment?"

Word Count: 1749


	4. Chapter 4

Previously…

"_As your first homework assignment, then, I want the two people at each desk to choose a question off this list." The young woman banished a copy of the list to every desk. "Each pair of you will work together at research, one of you from the point of view of a Pureblood elitist and the other from that of a Muggleborn sympathizer. I want each pair to write six inches on the answers, three inches from each point of view. Keep in mind," she warned them, "That for every offensive word I read, ten points will be deducted from the overall grade, and you will find yourselves in detention very quickly." She smiled slightly as a few students blanched._

"_Very well, then. If you need help for anything, feel free to visit me in my office. Also, fourth through seventh years have the same homework assignment, so you may compare notes so long as you do not copy from each other's work. You are dismissed early, so don't disrupt any other class." There was an instant clambering for the door. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter, could I speak with you three for a moment?" _

And Now…

The three boys halted half way to the door, then moved towards her. "Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, I trust that there will be no great problem with my arrangement?" The two stared at her blankly for a moment, then cast glares at each other. "I see," Brethany said softly, then sighed.

"The reason I put you two together is because you have a great deal in common," she noted with humor the exchanged look of horror, "And I thought it would do you good to be forced to work together for once." The young woman gave them her coldest stare. "The feud between the Weasleys and the Malfoys is well known, but the fact that your fathers hate each other has nothing to do with how the two of you act here at school." The Weasley boy's gaze dropped to the floor, but Malfoy just looked at her emotionlessly. Brethany sighed. "I put the two of you together, in front of everyone else, because you are the leaders of your generation here at Hogwarts." Both boys gazed at her in shock and she smile grimly.

"You are both purebloods from old, influential families. You are both classmates in the newest group of warriors, politicians and artisans. It will be _your_ year that will be put down in the history books, because it is _your_ year that will be targeted for the coming war, whether as potential enemies or for potential allies, it doesn't matter. You _will_ be targeted." They both looked stunned at her blunt relation of facts. "I want your classmates to see you both as the leaders you should be. If that means that I have to contact your mothers to tell them that you need to be re-taught etiquette and social behavior, then I will gleefully do so, and take great delight in listening to the howlers I know would arrive at breakfast in the Great Hall." Brethany took perverse pleasure in the undisguised horror on their faces.

"So," she continued calmly, "The two of you will be working together, and will be sitting in front of the entire class to give _your_ answers, not ones _I _have written out for you. Mr. Malfoy, if you must have further incentive to work well, then consider how your high rank among the Slytherins will be hurt if you do a sub-standard job." The Slytherin boy gave a curt nod. "Mr. Weasley, just think how your fellow Gryffindors will treat you if you let a Slytherin best you. Use that Gryffindor pigheadedness, oh, excuse me, I meant _bravery_," she corrected herself wryly, "To ensure that the task does not prove too daunting for you. Is that enough for you two to agree to not act like a couple of squabbling little boys rolling around in the mud?" That brought out winces and sullen nods from the both of them. Brethany nodded. "Good. You are dismissed."

Malfoy instantly went for the door, but Ron Weasley hesitated, looking back at his best friend. "Go on, Ron, I'll be along in a while," Harry told him reassuringly. The redhead left immediately, obviously rankling a bit over what Brethany had said.

"Alright, I think you can come out now," Brethany laughed as she approached the bookcase. Remus Lupin unfolded himself stiffly from the hiding place and stretched his arms and legs with obvious pleasure.

"I think I'm a little old to be doing that too often," he spoke wryly as he rolled his shoulders to rid them of kinks.

Brethany chuckled. "No, I think your arms and legs are simply too long for such a small space back there. It's a rather handy place though, isn't it? Albus probably has one in every classroom."

"He'd be more likely to use that invisibility charm of his, actually," both adults were surprised to hear from the teenager. Harry grinned at their expressions. "He used it on me in my first year. Nearly scared me to death, it did." They all chuckled.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me at all," Brethany spoke wryly, then looked at Lupin. "So, Mr. Lupin, what hints, suggestions, and helpful comments can you give me?"

"Call me Remus, please," the man smiled at her warmly. "As for advice, well, I think you've started out with a very good lesson. May I ask what the next question would have been?"

"'What is the definition of the Dark Arts?'" she recited the second question. "It should bring about some interesting discussions. Here's a copy of the entire list of questions, if you'd like it." Remus thanked her and quietly read down the list with a growing smile.

"'What are the origins of the Unforgivable curses, and why were they deemed as such?'

'What magical creatures are deemed "Dark", and why are they named so?'

'What makes a wizard "go Dark", and can such a process be halted?'

'Can affinities towards either "Light" or "Dark" be changed over time?'

'What makes a substance or spell "Dark" or "borderline Dark"?'

'Why are such potions as the Cupiens Potion illegal, yet not deemed "Dark"?'" Lupin looked up from the parchment with a surprised expression. "This list is remarkable, Miss Lewis. You are correct; it should bring out some very interesting discussion."

"Please call me Brethany, Remus." She turned to Harry. "You may, as well, Mr. Potter, when we are not among other students. You and I will be seeing one another a great deal, after all." At his questioning glance, her eyebrows rose in surprise. "The headmaster hasn't told you yet, then? I will be training you in Occlumency." When both of them stiffened, she looked at them in confusion. "Was there something Albus neglected to tell me?" Remus and Harry exchanged glances, the elder with sadness and the younger with a mix of guilt and anger.

"Professor Snape tried to teach me last year," Harry told her bitterly. "It didn't work out, and I ended up getting someone killed because I couldn't shield my mind."

Brethany looked at Remus, who was regarding the boy sadly. "Professor Snape, from what I understand, is a natural Occlumens," she spoke quietly. "It's not too surprising that he had a difficult time teaching you how to shield you mind. It would be like you trying to teach someone how to stand on one foot. For him it is something you do by instinct, not something you learn by instruction. He probably wasn't very patient with you every time you failed, was he?"

The teenage boy snorted. "Snape? Patient? He hates me! Not that I blame him, though…" he muttered quietly, and Remus looked at him in surprise. "I looked in his pensieve and saw some things that…well, explained some things."

"You looked in Professor Snape's pensieve?" Brethany's eyebrows rose. "Because of curiosity or because of anger?"

Harry looked down in shame. "A lot of both," he admitted reluctantly.

"Well, congratulations, Harry, you survived the experience," his teacher told him dryly. "You were an idiot, but really, all fifteen year old boys are idiots, so don't feel like you're alone in it." Remus snickered quietly, and she grinned at him. "The question now is, will you do the mature thing?"

Harry grimaced. "Apologize, you mean? Do you think it would do any good?"

"Whether it does any good or any harm has very little to do with you," Brethany spoke bluntly. "In the end, I think it would do a great deal of good, especially since Professor Snape will be the one testing your Occlumency every few weeks. I can't do it because I'm quite a terrible Legilimens." Harry groaned loudly and Brethany laughed.

"Merlin help me, then! I'll do it, even though he'll probably chew me up and spit me back out."

Brethany chuckled. "If it will help, Harry, you might put things into perspective." He looked at her curiously. "Who is scarier, Harry, Snape or Voldemort? Who do you respect more, the Dark Lord, or the man who at least halfway tried to teach you to protect your mind? I don't know if the tales of Snape being a former Death Eater are true, but Dumbledore wouldn't have kept him in Hogwarts for so long if he did not trust him. I happen to think that Snape is on our side, and if it is true that he was a Death Eater, I cannot think of a man I have more respect for. He has likely had to put up with just as much, if not more than you have, Harry. Can you really blame him for being so crabby?"

"'Crabby'?" Both British males burst out laughing.

"You know what I mean! Grouchy, nasty, acting like a git! I lived in America for ten years, give me a break!" Brethany folded her arms and scowled. They kept laughing; the young woman sighed. "_Tarantallegra_!" She smiled in satisfaction as they both began to jig. Remus calmly drew his wand and neatly cancelled the spell on himself, then watched as Harry slowly did the same. "Are the both of you quite finished now?" Brethany asked coolly, an eyebrow raised. The two males grinned at each other, then nodded. "Good. Now out! I have to prepare for the first year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class! Harry, Professor Snape doesn't have any classes until after lunch, but he's likely to be in his office. You've time enough before your next class, since I let you out early," she told him pointedly.

He grimaced and she sighed. "I know that I may seem overbearing and bossy, but it's a habit you pick up when you have as many younger siblings as I do. I have the tendency to adopt any stray child I find, especially teenage boys. You can argue and complain all you want, Harry, but you have now officially been adopted." She grinned. "And feel free to rail at me any time. I've found that a good scream does a person a lot of good. It's something I'm used to, actually."

The teenage boy stared at her. "You are very odd, do you know that, Prof- I mean, Brethany?"

"Of course I know that," Brethany spoke breezily, "I delight in being odd. It's so much more fun to shock people than to be boringly normal." She turned her back on them to head for her office. "What are you two still doing here? Out! Out! I have things to do!" Still laughing, the two exited the classroom. 'Honestly,' Brethany thought with a grin,'_men_!'

Word Count: 1752


	5. Chapter 5

Previously…

_The teenage boy stared at her. "You are very odd, do you know that, Prof- I mean, Brethany?"_

"_Of course I know that," Brethany spoke breezily, "I delight in being odd. It's so much more fun to shock people than to be boringly normal." She turned her back on them to head for her office. "What are you two still doing here? Out! Out! I have things to do!" Still laughing, the two exited the classroom. 'Honestly,' Brethany thought with a grin, '__men__!'_

And Now…

Brethany slumped in her chair, utterly exhausted. Would every day be like that, she wondered with a wince. Merlin, she hoped not!

"I see you managed to survive your first day with the little dunderheads," Snape's sneering voice echoed across the room, and the young teacher wearily lifted her head. The Potions Master strode into her classroom, surveying the room with ill-disguised contempt.

"'Survived'?" Brethany echoed dully, pulling herself upright with a quiet groan. "First I had the Gryffindor/Slytherin sixth years, then Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff first years, and finally the Gryffindor/Slytherin seventh years! Why does Albus insist on putting those houses together? Much as I enjoy a good scrap, having to put up with a bunch of teenagers who believe themselves to be each other's mortal enemies is not something I want to do on a regular basis!" She cast the Slytherin head of house a glare. "So far, I have given three Slytherins and two Gryffindors detention, and collectively taken almost forty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. I hope your house has been doing well in their classes, or Slytherin's points will be in the negative."

Snape scowled. "For their sakes, I hope they have as well. Why, may I ask, do so many of my house have detention on the first day of classes?"

Brethany snarled quietly. "Because your seventh years were not expecting a girl barely two years their elder to have a backbone when faced with three of them at once." A small grin formed on her face. "I did warn them at the beginning of class that I had been trained for five years by Aurors." She cast a thoroughly mischievous look at the other teacher. "Mr. Wilkins may have some trouble 'getting it up' over the next couple of months, but otherwise all three are physically intact."

The Potions professor regarded her sharply. "And what did Mr. Wilkins do to deserve your personal wrath?" She smiled at him sweetly.

"I called him and his two cohorts into my office after class. When I assigned them detention, Mr. Wilkins said something particularly degrading about me, and attempted to sexually intimidate me." Brethany grinned nastily. "I hexed him with _Cruciex ecstus_, and had his friends help him back to their dormitory." She smirked in satisfaction. "I'll have to owl Dad about that; he taught me that hex when I was fourteen."

"_Cruciex ecstus_," Snape repeated in a pained voice. "'Pain in place of pleasure'" he translated the Latin phrase, and Brethany laughed.

"Yes, that's how Dad sounded when he taught it to me. You needn't worry about Mr. Wilkins; it will only affect him when he attempts to," she paused, searching for the correct term.

"Procreate?" Snape finished her sentence, an eyebrow raised. Brethany nodded, a small grin on her face. "Normally I would protest using such a punishment, but I am well aware of Mr. Wilkins' reputation throughout Hogwarts. You have likely done the female population a great favor."

The young woman before him sighed and buried her face in her hands. "Are they always like this?" she asked plaintively, peering up at him through her fingers.

"Yes," Snape replied bluntly, "They are always so. They will not be nearly as much so in the future, simply because they understand that you _will _punish them, but they do not change. It would take a complete change in their way of thinking to make them otherwise, and I doubt that you can bring that about."

"I don't," Brethany spoke, her eyes sparkling with determination. "I think I can bring about that change, Professor Snape. I know that only a few will accept the change, but that is enough. That is all I want, just one or two students out of each house to work out the truth for themselves. All I have to do is ask the right questions. The answers don't matter so much in the long run, it's the questions that count. And Professor Snape," the young woman looked boldly up at the Potions teacher, "I am very good at asking the right questions."

The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then Snape gave a sharp nod. "That may be so," he conceded quietly. "I have heard some of my students speaking of your questions. I hope you understand, however," he continued sharply, "How much negative attention you could receive for this. No one likes change, especially when it deprives them of what they consider their rightful dues."

Brethany leaned back in her chair lazily. "I know," she agreed quietly. "And I will be careful of how I say certain things. While I am Gryffindor enough to continue saying what needs to be said regardless of the consequences, I am also Slytherin enough to know how and when to say those things." She grinned at his sharp look. "My father was a Slytherin, you know, but incredibly blunt. My mother was a Hufflepuff, but she was always able to manage my siblings and I with a great deal of cunning. I think I received a great deal of each of them. It's almost a shame that I can't be sorted; I'd rather like to know where I would have ended up."

"Slytherin or Gryffindor," came the swift answer, and Brethany looked at the Potions Master in surprise. "As you say, Miss Lewis, you are equal parts of the two houses. You are entirely too sly for Hufflepuff and too realistic for Ravenclaw. A Hufflepuff would never have hexed Mr. Wilkins in such a manner-"

"You've obviously never met my mother," Brethany muttered.

"-And most Ravenclaws would be appalled at how you question what is touted as absolutes in their precious books," Snape sneered. "You are perhaps fortunate to not know what house you would have belonged to. No one automatically views you as being one thing or another based on a name having been attached to you." Brethany considered that as the man turned toward the door.

"So, you consider me to be an honorary Slytherin, Professor Snape?" she asked, her grin apparent in her voice. Snape halted in the doorway.

"Merlin forbid that you would have been in my house," he spoke dryly, then turned to look at her. "Your tongue knows no boundaries or restrictions; you would have put Slytherin points into the negative very quickly." Brethany had to grin; he was likely correct. "You would have been a credit to either house, though both would likely have been eager to be rid of you."

She was startled into a laugh. "I'm not certain whether to take that as a compliment or an insult." Snape stared at her without emotion, and the young woman shrugged. "Thank you, I think."

"You are welcome," he said coolly as he turned to exit the room, then paused for a moment. "I am given to understand that you are partially responsible for Potter showing up in my office earlier today." Brethany froze. Oh, dear…

"Yes, I am," she replied uncertainly. "I merely gave him the boost that he needed. I'm sure that he would have done it on his own in time." Snape scoffed in disbelief, and Brethany had to laugh. "All right, he probably wouldn't have, but I really only gave him a little encouragement. I didn't force him to go to you in any way, and whatever Mr. Potter said to you was from him alone. I merely provided the opportunity; he was the one who took hold of it." The room was silent for a long moment as Brethany waited for a response. Finally, Snape simply grunted and swept out into the hall. Brethany sighed, but could not help grinning. Snape would be Snape…

Word Count: 1284


	6. Chapter 6

Previously…

"_I am given to understand that you are partially responsible for Potter showing up in my office earlier today." Brethany froze. Oh, dear…_

"_Yes, I am," she replied uncertainly. "I merely gave him the boost that he needed. I'm sure that he would have done it on his own in time." Snape scoffed in disbelief, and Brethany had to laugh. "All right, he probably wouldn't have, but I really only gave him a little encouragement. I didn't force him to go to you in any way, and whatever Mr. Potter said to you was from him alone. I merely provided the opportunity; he was the one who took hold of it." The room was silent for a long moment as Brethany waited for a response. Finally, Snape simply grunted and swept out into the hall. Brethany sighed, but could not help grinning. Snape would be Snape…_

And Now…

Two Weeks later:

Brethany was at the end of her rope. All day, students had been restless in her class, seemingly ignoring the lecture to stare at her in curiosity and horror. Two classes had passed in this manner, with only a few of the students rousing themselves enough from their examination of her features to answer any questions on the subject, currently being dementors. The third period fifth-year Slytherin and Ravenclaw class sat in silent interest as they followed her every movement with uneasy eyes as she paced back and forth across the room, explaining what was known about dementors.

A smack echoed through the room, causing the fifth-years to jump in alarm. Brethany stood next her desk, the pile of notes on the desk where she had dropped them. "Alright, you lot, this isn't funny any longer." She watched in annoyance as backs straightened, throats were cleared, and faces blanked. "What is going on? You all are the third class today to not pay attention and stare at me." She watched them shift uncomfortably behind their desks. "What, do I have dirt on my face," she asked wryly, noting that the Slytherins were just as obviously nervous as the Ravenclaws were. That was bad…

"So, no one wants to tell me what's going on? Miss Craffen?" The Slytherin girl flushed slightly, but shook her head. "Mr. Patterson?" The skinny Ravenclaw shrunk beneath her casual glare, shrugging helplessly. "Hmm. No one? No one would care to share what you all find so interesting about me?" The entire room was silent, then a dreamy voice spoke up from the back of the room.

"They believe you to be of Vampiric descent, Professor Lewis." Brethany's head jerked in the direction of the slender girl who had spoken.

"Miss Lovegood?" The girl looked up, her smoky gray eyes gazing at Brethany in dazed interest.

"Everyone believes that you have vampire blood. That's impossible, of course, because you have a great deal of Snorkack characteristics, and they don't interbreed with vampires." This was said in such perfect seriousness that Brethany almost laughed. It was typical of the girl, Luna Lovegood, to be so dreamy about mythical creatures.

"Thank you for being so forthcoming, Miss Lovegood," the Defense teacher spoke seriously, giving the Ravenclaw girl a small smile. "I'm afraid that I don't have any relatives in the Snorkack family, although my brothers and I do bear many similarities to them. As to having Vampiric blood, well, I never meant for anyone here to discover that." A murmur swept over the classroom, several of the students paling at the evident affirmation of their fears. Brethany contained her amusement as she gazed coolly over the class. "May I ask who divulged that particular fact to the entire school?" She watched as they exchanged nervous glances. "Such rumors should not be shared so carelessly," the words practically purred over her tongue, and her predatory gaze caused many students to tremble.

"Perhaps now that I understand what is going on, I can demand your attention? Does anyone here know what happens during detentions with me?" They shook their heads in ignorance, and the young woman smirked. "Well, I would suggest that you all pay attention, or you will find out _personally_. I'm sure that you all know what vampires consume for nourishment…" The unspoken words hung in the air, and the majority of the students straightened up in their seats with exaggerated expressions of attentiveness. Seeing that she needed not continue, Brethany turned and picked her notes back up. "Now, dementors, while somewhat similar to…"

The class continued in complete silence, those being called upon to answer doing so dutifully and in obvious fear for their necks. By the end of the class period, Brethany was caught between hilarity and sheer exasperation over the entire situation. Once she had dismissed the class, watching the rapidly retreating backs, she was left with the urge to both laugh and cry out of frustration. For a few minutes, she sat at her desk, head leaning on the stack of notes, until she finally gave a sigh and made to rise.

"I probably should not have done that," the young teacher murmured to herself. "Bad idea, no matter how much fun it was."

"No matter how much fun what was?" Brethany whirled around to see Harry in the doorway, watching her curiously.

"Oh, hey, Harry." She rolled her eyes. "Have you heard a rumor about me, something to do with vampires?"

The teenage boy snorted. "You mean the one where you're at least half vampire and have been seen flying through the halls in bat form at night? Or the one where you're half vampire, half veela and half human and you lure the male fifth through seventh years into your rooms at night to suck their blood and do who knows what other depraved acts in your bedchamber?" He laughed at her expression. "Actually, several of the boys in Gryffindor said that they wouldn't mind that second one too much." Brethany stared at him for a long moment, then buried her face in her hands as she tried to hold back her mortified giggles.

"That's _awful_!" she wailed in hysterical amusement, her shoulders shaking with laughter. "Who in the _world_ came up with that?!"

Harry shrugged. "I would imagine that it was the collective imagination of most of the girls and half the blokes in this school by the time it actually went all the way around." He grinned. "Hermione says it's a load of bunk, but Ron is just a little bit wary at the moment. I think he might fancy you just a little." Brethany shut her eyes in horror.

"Merlin help me," she whispered, then grimaced. "I think I might have just helped the rumor." The teenage boy looked at her curiously. "One of the students finally told me what was going on in class just now." She paused. "I, ah, neither confirmed nor denied that I did, in fact, have vampire blood in me. I may have hinted at a little blood-sucking during detention, as well…"

Harry stared at her in silence for a moment, then burst out laughing. "So _that's_ what the Slytherins were talking about just a moment ago! Some of them were muttering about Dark Creatures during detention." He shrugged. "I just assumed they were talking about detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest."

Brethany frowned. "I would have thought that they wouldn't be quite so quick with the term 'Dark' after my classes."

"Yeah, well, they are Slytherins," Harry muttered, then grinned sheepishly under her sharp look.

"Two points from Gryffindor," Brethany said quietly. "I had thought you would know better than to say anything discriminating about another house, Harry. That is one of my rules, I think you will remember." The teenage boy nodded, his eyes downcast. "Now then, how would you feel about a small prank on the school?" His face came up, filled with interest as he watched her transfigure a quill into a small bandage. Brethany grinned. "Come on, undo the top part of your shirt so I can get to your neck. We want to be able to see the bandage clearly." Harry watched in good-humored silence as his teacher placed the bandage over the point where his pulse beat and sealed it there with a tap of her wand. "There. Maybe just a little bit of red seeping through, perhaps…" she muttered as she made the appropriate changes. "So Harry, how good of an actor are you?"

Ten minutes later, the buzz of gossip in the Great Hall died down slightly as Harry and Brethany appeared in the doorway. The teenager's face was glazed slightly, and he had a goofy smile as he gazed up at the DADA teacher. Brethany on her part wore a satisfied smirk as she patted the boy on the shoulder. "Go on, Mr. Potter, I'm sure you're quite famished after that little…incident. We wouldn't want your blood to lose its…strength. That could be very bad for your health."

"Yes, Professor," Harry smiled at her dreamily. "Won't you eat something as well?"

Brethany smiled widely, flashing teeth that seemed slightly pointier than normal to the entire hall. "Oh, that's quite alright, Mr. Potter. I've a full belly after our little…snack." She casually wiped a small smear of scarlet from the corner of her mouth. "I will remain here in the Great Hall, though, should you require any reassurance of my well being." Harry flashed her another adoring smile. "Be off with you, my boy." She pushed him away gently, taking care that everyone saw her hand revealing the bandage on the teenager's neck. "Feed well," she purred, flashing her teeth again, her eyes sparkling gleefully into her partner-in-prank's receiving gaze.

The entire hall went silent as Harry stumbled slightly to his seat, a drunken smile on his face. All eyes followed Brethany as she walked demurely up to the staff's table and seated herself between Snape and McGonagall. For a long moment, no one dared to make a sound, then a gasp rose from the Gryffindor table when they caught sight of the traces of blood on Harry's bandage. Brethany hid her face slightly behind her hair, struggling to contain her amusement. Really, it was too easy.

"Brethany," Minerva asked quietly, "Why does Harry have a bandage on his neck?"

The DADA teacher smiled vaguely, revealing her pointy teeth once again. "Oh, there was a small…accident in my classroom a while ago. Nothing serious. I ensured that Mr. Potter did not bleed…overly much." All the teachers eyed her warily. "Is there something on my face?" she asked innocently.

"Actually, yes," Snape drawled, his eyes glittering in suspicion. "There is a drop of something red by your mouth."

"Oh," Brethany spoke distantly, reaching up to her mouth. A small smear of red came off onto her finger; she surveyed it with fascination for a moment before sucking it off her finger with every sign of enjoyment. "Thank you, Severus." She flashed her fangs at him again and leaned back comfortably in her chair.

"Oh my," Flitwick squeaked, then fell off his chair. The Headmaster smiled serenely and turned back to his food, leaving the rest of the teachers to stare at the young woman.

"Brethany…" Minerva paused, a strange expression on her face. "Why do you have fangs? And what in Merlin's name is wrong with Mr. Potter?!"

It was too much; Brethany couldn't help herself. Shoulders shaking with silent laughter, the young woman bowed her head so that the students could not see the tears of mirth streaming down her face. "Oh! You should have seen your faces!" She chuckled at their expressions, trying to dampen her own amusement. "I couldn't help myself, you see. All my students today have been completely distracted by a rumor that has been floating around about me."

"The rumor about you being of Vampiric descent, I assume?" Snape asked dryly, his expression bland. Brethany grinned at him and nodded.

"When I discovered this from my fifth-year Slytherin and Ravenclaw class, I have to admit that I may have perpetuated the rumor." Her eyes twinkled. "Harry and I decided to have a little fun at lunch, which is why he is amusing himself by acting slightly intoxicated, and I am amusing myself by horrifying my colleagues." She grinned. "Aren't my fangs lovely?" Minerva struggled to hold her expression of disapproval firm. "I'll let the rumors continue strong for another few days, and then I'll teach them how to tell if a person is a vampire or not. Albus," the DADA teacher turned to the Headmaster, "Would you allow me to bring in a vampire for that class? Or at the very least, a dhampyr?"

"Albus! You wouldn't let her bring such a creature into a school!" Minerva was horrified. Brethany frowned in surprise.

"How are they to learn if they don't know what they are looking for?" she asked rhetorically. "And it's not such a danger as you seem to think, Minerva. There are several colonies of vampires in Scotland, alone, two of which are within a couple hundred miles of here." This didn't seem to make any of the teachers feel any better. "Have none of you ever met a vampire?" she asked curiously, and was slightly surprised to see that this was true of almost all of them.

"I have, of course," Snape sneered slightly, "As has the Headmaster. The normal witch or wizard, however, is far more likely to avoid the vampire colonies out of fear and ignorance. The vampires here are much more civilized than those on the Continent, which are well-known for their violence and blood-lust." Brethany frowned.

"So, all the students here are of the belief that vampires are bloodthirsty, dark creatures that will rip your heart out sooner than look at you?" she asked wryly, suddenly understanding the extreme reactions of the students. "Hmm." She grinned suddenly. "Well, this should make my next class quite interesting, don't you agree?"

"Brethany, you wouldn't," Poppy scolded, then took a closer at the young teacher's face. "Oh, dear," she sighed, "Yes, you would." The school nurse sighed again. "Do try not to cause mass hysteria, dear. I have only so much calming potion in storage, and it takes several hours to brew." Snape sneered.

"And I will not take time out of my day to brew more just for a lot of overwrought, ignorant dunderheads."

Brethany couldn't help herself; she laughed, loud and long, attracting the attention of the students from Harry. "Professor Snape, I can't imagine that you have much time in which you could to do much for the 'dunderheads', apart from your head of house duties, Potions Master duties, and Potions professor duties." There was immediately a long moment of silence, as the other teachers watched to see what Snape's reaction would be. Brethany was half aware of the fact that she seemed to have said something wrong.

"As you say," Snape nodded in bland agreement, his eyes glittering. "My days are full indeed here. I find a great deal to keep me busy." With that, the Potions Professor turned back to his own plate. Brethany stared at him for a moment with concerned curiosity, then quietly finished her own meal with a small frown.

Word Count: 2396


	7. Chapter 7

Previously…

i _ The DADA teacher turned to the Headmaster, "Would you allow me to bring in a vampire for that class? Or at the very least, a dhampyr?"_

"_Albus! You wouldn't let her bring such a creature into a school!" Minerva was horrified. Brethany frowned in surprise._

"_How are they to learn if they don't know what they are looking for?" she asked rhetorically. "And it's not such a danger as you seem to think, Minerva. There are several colonies of vampires in Scotland, alone, two of which are within a couple hundred miles of here." This didn't seem to make any of the teachers feel any better. "Have none of you ever met a vampire?" she asked curiously, and was slightly surprised to see that this was true of almost all of them._ /i 

And Now…

"So, Albus, do I have your permission?" Brethany looked at the old man eagerly, her eyes following him as he moved to stroke his phoenix, Fawkes. Close by, the four Heads of House waited for the Headmaster's answer as well.

"Are you honestly thinking of permitting i _children_ /i to go among vampires?!" Pamona Sprout was aghast, and Minerva looked just as pleased. "Albus, that is- that's i _daft_ /i !"

"It's perfectly safe," Brethany huffed, "And I only want to take the fifth through seventh years to the colony. It would be highly educational for them, and perhaps rid them of some of the ridiculous misconceptions about vampires that most of Britain seems to have about them." Her gaze was slightly accusing. "Besides, there would be at least five other adults besides myself in my group."

"Who might they be," Minerva asked shortly, highly reluctant to endorse what was, in

her mind, utter foolishness.

"Hagrid, for one," the young DADA teacher began listing, "Miss Zabini's father; Mr. William Weasley; Miss Hermes, who graduated from here some five years ago and is now, I believe, attending Wizarding University in Dublin. I have others on my list, but those are the only ones whom I have actually contacted."

"You seem quite confident that your idea will be carried out," Snape said sardonically, his black eyes glittering. Brethany grinned half-heartedly, then turned to Dumbledore once more.

"Master de Sordante would actually be quite pleased to host a field trip in his colony. Granted, much of his eagerness is because of the political ramifications it would have, but that is just further guarantee that no one would be harmed there. Pierre de Sordante is too much of a politician to allow such an opportunity to be ruined in i _his_ /i territory."

"He is a i _vampire_ /i ," the Head of Hufflepuff exclaimed in disbelief. "How can you speak as though he were just an ordinary i _man_ /i !"

"Madam Sprout," Brethany spoke stiffly, "Pierre i _is_ /i a man. He is egotistical, obnoxious, and condescending to women of both Vampiric and mortal descent, but I know many men who are like that. My father vouches for his trustworthiness so long as I carry a large enough purse into his colony, which makes Master de Sordante just as human as Minister Fudge." There was a small moment of silence as the young woman thought over what she had just said. "We can just pretend that I didn't say that," she said softly, flushing slightly even as she tried not to grin at the amused expressions of the other teachers.

"I do not think that it would be wise to permit the fifth through seventh years to take such a trip," Dumbledore spoke slowly, and Brethany's jaw stiffened visibly. "However, the two upper years might be permitted to go, provided they are either of age or have the consent of their guardians." His blue eyes twinkled at the DADA professor's obvious excitement. "And I would like Severus to accompany you, if at all possible." The Potions Master instantly moved to protest, but the Headmaster gestured for him to be still. "This is to provide reassurance to parents that there will be qualified teachers there to handle any dangers that may arise. The people you have contacted already are very well chosen, and I am sure that the students can be assured of their safety."

"Of course, Albus," Brethany nodded, struggling to contain herself from bouncing in glee. Really, it was almost exactly what she had expected.

"What sort of reactions do you think the students will have to such a proposal," Minerva raised a curious eyebrow in sarcastic question. "They will think you are mad to even think of such a thing!" She threw her hands in disgust. "Pomona is correct, Albus; you i _are_ /i daft!"

"Of course, Minerva," the old wizard agreed with her calmly. "Would you like a lemon drop, my dear?"

The Transfiguration professor stared at the offered sweets disdainfully. "Thank you, Albus, but I must go. I have work to do, and I may as well begin writing apologies to parents for permitting their children to be devoured by i _vampires_ /i ." She stormed out of the Headmaster's office, closely followed by Pomona Sprout.

Brethany seated herself with a huff, alternately excited and annoyed by the responses to her proposal. "I would have thought Minerva would be slightly less prejudiced about magical peoples," she muttered quietly. "After all, she taught Remus Lupin, and likes him just fine."

"Lupin is not typical of what most well-known werewolves are," Snape spoke disdainfully. "And very few would consider vampires and werewolves to be 'magical peoples'. The term is Dark Creatures."

Brethany frowned. "Only here in Europe. Fortunately, in America, weres and the undead are not viewed in such a bad light. Actually," she continued brightly, "Vampires are usually not viewed in much light at all. They tend to come out only at night, you know." Her grin wilted slightly under Snape's vitriolic look. "I know, that was a truly bad joke, but my mouth sometimes gets the better of myself before I have time to censor it."

"Indeed." Snape's acerbic tone spoke volumes. Dumbledore watched this altercation with a small smile, absently stroking Fawkes' brilliant plumage.

"So, Brethany, when do you plan on making the trip?" Filius Flitwick asked curiously, twiddling his beard. Brethany grinned, once again high on her excitement.

"Over Christmas break," she bounced on her feet gleefully as she spoke. "The students who come would arrive back here on the twenty-ninth, and we would be back on the fifth. I want the students to get a chance to see how some people observe the New Year." Snape raised an eyebrow.

"With a great deal of bloodshed and disgusting practices, I presume," he sneered, halting in surprise when the young woman laughed.

"Oh, please, Professor Snape, spare me the melodrama of normal wizarding misconceptions," she said scornfully. "Wizards have lost a great deal of the old traditions they once held to. Many of the elder Vampires, however, have never ceased those practices, and teach the traditions to the younger generations of their kind. As for the rites of the New Year, well, you will just have to wait and see when you come on the trip." Brethany grinned at the scowl the Potions professor sent at her. Oh, it would be amusing, indeed, to see Snape pitted against the scathing sarcasm of a vampire with centuries' worth of experience. Amusing, indeed.

"Professor Lewis! Professor Lewis!" The cry echoed down the stone corridors, reaching clearly to Brethany's ears as she sat in her office grading tests. Her head whipped up, and her hand reached reflexively for her wand, then relaxed. That had been an exclamation of excitement, not of fear or anger. In fact, that had been the voice of an extremely excited teenage boy, a sound she was quite familiar with. True to her thoughts, a quick knock had barely sounded on her door before she had two energetic and eager teenagers in her office, both talking excitedly at the same time.

"Wait, you two, hold on! I can't listen to you both at the same time!" Brethany laughed as the two boys quieted slightly. "Now, i _what_ /i are you both trying to say?" Harry and his best friend, the Weasley boy, exchanged glances.

"Is it true that you're taking the sixth and seventh years to visit a vampire colony," Harry asked eagerly, and the redhead beside him fastened large brown eyes on their teacher.

"Well, yes," Brethany told them, somewhat surprised, "But I haven't announced it yet, and I've only talked about it with Professors Snape, Sprout, Flitwick and McGonagall. As well as the Headmaster, of course. How did you two find out about it?" The boys exchanged slightly guilty glances. "All right, Harry, who did you eavesdrop on," Brethany asked in amusement, recognizing the expression. "Let me guess, you were listening to your Head of House talking, or rather hollering at Professor Snape about this trip." The two exchanged glances again.

"Actually," Harry started slowly, "It wasn't us. Hermione and Neville were in Greenhouse 7, and they heard Professor Sprout talking with Professor McGonagall. You are right, though, neither of them were very happy about it." Brethany had to chuckle. No, she was quite aware of just how unhappy Minerva and Pamona were with her.

"Cor," Ron Weasley breathed in wonder, staring at her. "You really i _are_ /i taking them to a vampire colony!"

"Not 'them', Mr. Weasley," the DADA teacher corrected him, "You will be coming as well. You are a sixth year, after all. Your older brother Bill will be coming as well to help keep the peace, so I'm quite certain your parents should have little problem with you going on a small field trip." The gangly boy paled beneath his freckles, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of meeting vampires. "Harry, the Headmaster has taken it upon himself on behalf of your guardians to provide permission to come on the trip. Miss Granger, as I understand it, will reach her majority before then, and will not need parental permission, so I fully expect all three of you to sign up for the trip." Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Did you want to know something else, guys? I have to grade these tests, and I doubt that you really want your sister's bad grade on your head, Mr. Weasley." Both boys nodded, small grins on their faces.

"Can I just peak at-" Harry started mischievously, reaching for the pile of papers. Brethany swatted at his hand.

"None of that! Ah-ah! Harry, get your filthy paws out of Miss Lovegood's papers! Out! Out, both of you! I'll see you at supper, and the announcement about the trip will be made tomorrow in class. Don't dare tell anyone else, now! I want it to be a surprise. Tell Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom not to share the news around, would you? Now, out!"

Word Count: 1683


	8. Chapter 8

Previously…

_ i "Cor," Ron Weasley breathed in wonder, staring at her. "You really are taking them to a vampire colony!"_

"_Not 'them', Mr. Weasley," the DADA teacher corrected him, "You will be coming as well. You are a sixth year, after all. Your older brother Bill will be coming as well to help keep the peace, so I'm quite certain your parents should have little problem with you going on a small field trip." The gangly boy paled beneath his freckles, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of meeting vampires. "Harry, the Headmaster has taken it upon himself on behalf of your guardians to provide permission to come on the trip. Miss Granger, as I understand it, will reach her majority before then, and will not need parental permission, so I fully expect to see all three of you to sign up for the trip." Harry nodded thoughtfully. /i _

And Now…

The entire school was in an uproar over the news. Once the plans for the trip were announced during Brethany's classes, word spread throughout all seven years and four houses. Brethany herself was swamped with students, all questioning her about the trip and her sanity, sometimes only the latter. After the first few days of utter chaos in both her classroom and office, she simply refused to talk about the trip to those who asked about it, stipulating that they read the flier that she had posted on the bulletin board. Though there were still three months left before the trip, there were already over a dozen names posted on the list to go, and almost as many Howlers from parents.

Yes, the parents had not initially been very fond of the idea. Most of the scathing letters were from horrified mothers who were reacting to excited letters from their children, letters which had contained almost no valid information for the parents to go on. At last, Brethany had gone to the Headmaster, asking for the names of all the parents of the sixth and seventh years, so that she could send information packets to the families of all those eligible to go on the trip. It took some time, and some correspondence between herself and a few of the more horrified parents, but the hubbub eventually died down to a dull roar, and her Defense classes went back to normal.

Normal, currently, was dueling, using primarily the 'household' charms they had learned in first year. It was chaotic, and loud, and a lot of fun for the sixth year Slytherin-Gryffindor class. Brethany had paired the students up according to their desk-mates, a system which was fairly normal for them by that time, and there were almost two dozen teenagers duking it out in the center of the room.

"Mr. Zabini! Keep your eyes on your opponent, not on anyone else! Miss Parkinson, don't be afraid to use embarrassing charms on Miss Granger! Mr. Weasley, use something other than the levitation charm, for Merlin's sake! I know you know other charms, so be more creative! Mr. Malfoy, I won't take off points if you honestly try to disarm Mr. Weasley. Use i _Inflamare /i _! Mr. Weasley, put it out with a water charm! Very good, you two! Keep going! Mr. Thomas…" and so it went. Each pair of students was given individual advice and encouragement, and occasionally, they were called upon to demonstrate some particular set of charms for the rest of the class. At the end of the class, Ron Weasley was asked to explain one way to defeat a troll using only a simple i _Leviosa /i _charm, a story which caused several impressed looks, although well hidden from the Slytherins.

Immediately after that class, Brethany ran into her office for a bolstering cup of tea before her first years' class, which that day involved the wonderful art of the disarming spell and the most basic shields involved in defense. Much as she loved teaching, sometimes she just wanted to frighten the little brats until they cried for their mums. No, not brats, not really…well, they were just as much brats at that age as she herself had been, anyway. They weren't really all i _that /i _ bad. When in small amounts. For very short time periods. And after they'd had the i _Silencio /i _ hex put on them. Preferably, they would only appear when their hormones had not taken over their measly little brains, and even then only after she herself had consumed a half dozen cups of coffee. i _Why /i _ had she taken this teaching position, when she could be an Auror, chasing felons around the U.S. with a tracking charm, in the pouring rain, using relatively useless invisibility charms while trying to avoid the more disreputable parts of the country? Ah, yes, right. The bad pay, the bad hours, the bad company, the bad coffee, and the horrible management. Merlin, she really hated bureaucracy at work.

Briefly, Brethany wondered what was causing her bad mood, but was forced to drag herself back into the classroom before she could examine her thoughts more closely. Two class periods later, she finally permitted herself to collapse at her desk, irritated with herself, her students, her fellow staff members, and the world at large. For a long moment, the young woman simply slumped there, then groaned as she forced herself to sit up.

"Merlin hang it all, I hate this," Brethany muttered to herself as she stumbled into the office. Distractedly, she looked at herself in the mirror on the wall, then halted in shock. "Merlin, I look like crap." It was true; her eyes were bloodshot, she had bags under her eyes, and her face was pinched and pale. In truth, she looked like a hippogriff had chewed her up and spit her out without any regard to where she landed. Dully, the young teacher shook her head; she was sick, and she knew it. There was no getting around it. "I suppose I need to go see Poppy," she told her reflection, and examined her face once again. "You really do look like crap," she repeated with shallow humor. "And Merlin, do I feel like it, too."

"You look like something the dog dragged in!" came the mirror's helpful response. Brethany growled, but had to agree.

The trip up to the infirmary was dreadful. Brethany's mouth tasted of cardboard, and her head persisted in spinning at inopportune times, causing her balance to seriously deteriorate on the stairs and through the halls. It was not until Minerva McGonagall suddenly appeared at her side with an expression of concern that Brethany realized that she had been standing motionless, staring stupidly at the infirmary door for quite some time.

"Brethany? Are you well, dear?" If Brethany had contained the energy needed to jump in surprise, she would have, but as it was, all she could do was loll her head back to look at the older woman with glazed eyes. "Oh, dear, you look dreadful."

"Thank you for that stunning bit of…" Brethany ran out of air half way through the sentence, inhaled in embarrassed hurry, then finished, "observational skill. Hello, Minerva, how are i _you /i _?"

"Better than you, I dare say," the Transfiguration teacher spoke dryly, pulling the younger woman upright. "You were going to see Poppy, of course?" Barely waiting for a response, she hustled Brethany into the infirmary and onto an empty bed. "Poppy! i _Poppy /i _!"

"Goodness gracious, Minerva, what's happ-" the matronly nurse stopped short when she saw Brethany on the bed. "What's happened here, then? Not an accident in class, I hope?"

Brethany chuckled wearily. "No, just a good old-fashioned sick day, Poppy. I don't know what I've got, or where I got it from, but it's meaner than Professor Snape before he's had his coffee."

"And precisely how would you know what such a state would be like?" Brethany groaned at the cool question, shutting her eyes against the glare she knew would be directed at her.

"Professor Snape, I wasn't aware you were there," she muttered dully, feeling horribly like a naughty child.

"Obviously not," came the chilly reply. There was a short pause. "What have you done with yourself, Miss Lewis? You look like something Filch's infernal cat dragged in." Brethany groaned again, turning to bury her face in the bed.

"Don't know," the muffled answer came. "Tired all day; couldn't eat the noon meal; stupid first years couldn't get the shield spell right, and gave me a headache; looked in the mirror and it laughed at me. Stupid mirror. Stupid students. Stupid school. Stupid, stupid sickness."

The other staff members exchanged glances. "I'll go warn Albus that he'll likely need to find a replacement for tomorrow's DADA classes," McGonagall said quietly. "Brethany, don't worry about a thing. I'm sure that Poppy will have you fixed up in no time." The Transfiguration teacher gave the other woman a long glance. "Tie her to that bed if you have to, Poppy. I know what Dragonpox looks like, and she shouldn't be up for at least a couple days."

Brethany groaned from the bed, her face now flushed and damp. "Oh, I am going to scream," she muttered. "Poppy, I refuse to stay in this bed for two days; you can't make me! It's just a headache and some dizziness. I probably haven't eaten enough today, and it caught up with me. Of course that's it. Not enough food. What else would it be? Can't be Dragonpox, I'm not old enough. Why's it called Dragonpox, Poppy? Did I catch it from a real dragon, or does the virus itself look like a dragon? I know! It makes the people who catch it be as grouchy as a dragon! Or-"

" i _Silencio /i _!" Severus Snape smirked slightly as he put his wand away. "It is most assuredly Dragonpox, Miss Lewis. No other illness that I am aware of causes a relatively intelligent person to turn into a witless babbler." The young DADA teacher blinked in silent consternation. Through the haze that had taken over her brain, Brethany grinned in sudden pleasure. Snape had said she was intelligent...sort of.

"Severus, don't torment the poor girl," Poppy scolded the man. "You know that anyone would have a difficult time thinking while sick with the Dragonpox. If I remember right," she leveled an amused glare at the Potions Master, "You were quite the talker yourself when you caught it several years ago. Went on for hours about the pretty colors of the ceiling and how you were going to make a potion the exact same color." She grinned as the man scowled in denial. "Oh, yes, you did, Severus. You can ask Albus; he was the one who brought you in to see me, with you singing the major ingredients for common potions to the tune of 'Danny Boy'." Minerva snorted with laughter as the male teacher huffed and whirled out of the infirmary. "Oh, dear, I think I may have insulted his pride," Poppy said airily, then sniffed. "It won't hurt him to have it deflated slightly."

"Yes, Poppy," McGonagall chuckled, then sobered. "See what you can do with her. Albus and Severus can take over Defense for tomorrow and possibly a few days next week, but it would be easier all around if you can get her back on her feet and functional as soon as possible. Dragonpox is not catching to children, thank Merlin, so we are likely not in danger of an epidemic. She will be receiving quite a few visitors, I'm certain." Both women looked down at the teacher on the bed. "She has done well," Minerva spoke quietly, "Better than any of us, except perhaps for Albus, ever expected. She will be irreplaceable when she leaves."

"She is the only Defense teacher that Severus ever expressed approval of," the school nurse nodded, awe plain on her face. "Don't worry, Minerva. She'll be on her feet in no time."

"Good. I hate to think what her class will do without her there to mediate. We will have our hands full."

Word Count: 1851


	9. Chapter 9

Previously…

_i "Yes, Poppy," McGonagall chuckled, then sobered. "See what you can do with her. Albus and Severus can take over Defense for the next few days, but it would be easier all around if you can get her back on her feet and functional as soon as possible. Dragonpox is not catching to children, thank Merlin, so we are likely not in danger of an epidemic. She will be receiving quite a few visitors, I'm certain." Both women looked down at the teacher on the bed. "She has done well," Minerva spoke quietly, "Better than any of us, except perhaps for Albus, ever expected. She will be irreplaceable when she leaves."_

"_She is the only Defense teacher that Severus ever expressed approval of," the school nurse nodded, awe plain on her face. "Don't worry, Minerva. She'll be on her feet in no time." _

"_Good. I hate to think what her class will do without her there to mediate. We will have our hands full." /i _

And Now…

Pain was the first thing Brethany felt as she approached consciousness. Soft moans escaped her as she shifted in the bed, struggling to find a comfortable position. A cool hand on her brow startled her into stillness, even as a cheery voice began to speak.

"There you are, dear! I was wondering when you would decide to wake up. Open those eyes, Brethany, and let me see how you look." Brethany groaned and turned her face away. "Now, none of that! Open those eyes this second, young lady, or I'll do it for you!" Grudgingly, the young woman squinted up at the nurse. "Good," Poppy declared sharply, "But you'll have to do better than that. Open them, dear. All the way, please." Brethany groaned as she opened her eyes.

"Poppy, I hate you," she growled out dully. "Hate you, hate you, hate you forever."

"Yes, dear, I'm sure you do," the nurse returned blithely. "Can you focus on me, or is everything blurred?"

"Blurred," Brethany croaked out. "You have three eyes, and your mouth is riding up the side of your chin." Poppy chuckled. "'S not funny," the unfortunate on the bed slurred slightly. "The room is moving, too. Poppy, what's wrong with me?"

The matronly nurse clucked worriedly. "You have Dragonpox, dear, and a rather bad case of it at that. You won't be teaching for a several more days, but I should have you right as rain before long. Come on, now, Brethany, I have a few potions for you to drink." Brethany groaned as Poppy helped her to sit up.

"Dragonpox? But I'm not old enough to have Dragonpox! My parents didn't get it until they were almost thirty!"

Poppy glowered down at her patient. "Constant stress and lack of sleep will bring it on earlier in life, Brethany, and according to what I understand, you haven't slowed down in life since you were thirteen years old! You just finished your double Masteries, and then you came straight here to teach. You are worn out and worn down, and so the Dragonpox caught you off-guard. It did the exact same thing with Severus when he was twenty. Drink this," she all but shoved several potions down the younger woman's throat. "Don't go to sleep, now," the nurse ordered sternly. "I need you awake so I can run a diagnostic spell over you."

Brethany struggled to hold her eyes open as the older witch ran her wand over the length of her body. Poppy muttered softly to herself throughout the scan, nodding and making approving or worried sounds for her different discoveries. Brethany, having no idea exactly what any of it meant, simply concentrated on remaining awake and mostly conscious. It wasn't easy. Her entire body ached in a manner reminiscent of the state she was usually in after several days of intense workout sessions, and nothing would remain still. The world swayed and tilted around her in dizzying motion. and she groaned as her stomach moved with it.

"Nauseous," Poppy asked sympathetically. "Here, dear, drink this." She poured yet another potion down her patient's throat. Brethany groaned.

"Why can't anyone come up with flavoring that won't effect potions? Severus could, I'm certain. He's a brilliant Potions Master, did you know that, Poppy?" The nurse raised an amused eyebrow as the younger woman rambled on. "He really is a wonderful man," Brethany continued, a rather drunken smile on her face. "Very clever; do you know he can argue with me for hours, and I have more fun than with my brothers? Not many people can argue with me and win, Poppy, but Severus can. Oops, I forgot I was supposed to call him 'Professor Snape'. I call him 'Severus' inside my head, though, why can't I call him that out loud? He told me to, that's why, in that lovely, sexy voice of his. Don't you think he has a sexy voice, Poppy?"

"I think that the fennel and the dragon scales in the potions I just gave you are making you intoxicated," Poppy told her in amusement. "I always look forward to giving that combination to the teachers here, dear. I've found that it's best to have a great deal of blackmail material, just in case I have to convince you to cooperate with me."

"I'm not drunk," the young DADA teacher whispered in affront. "I didn't even get to drink anything. No fair making me drunk without getting to drink, Poppy. That's just mean…" her voice faded away as her eyes drifted shut in sleep. Poppy smirked as she watched her reluctant patient swiftly drift off.

----------------------

----------------------

"She does look dreadful, doesn't she?"

"What is she sick with, Remus?"

"The Dragonpox. It's a magical disease that hits only adults, usually in their early thirties or forties, after their magical core has completed the maturing process."

Brethany frowned slightly as she began to awaken. Who was talking so loud? Her head hurt…

"But Brethany's only twenty! Why does she have it?"

"Brethany has been using her magic much, much more than most other witches or wizards, Harry. The more a person uses his magic, the faster their magical core matures. It's common for Aurors and Healers to contract Dragonpox earlier than normal, partially because their magical core matures from the constant use, and partially because of the large amounts of stress involved in what they do." Both people- men- were silent after that.

"Will she be sick for much longer? We all miss her in class," the younger voice sounded slightly put out, as though Brethany had chosen to have the sickness hit. The elder man chuckled.

"Dragonpox takes a few days to recover from, Harry." i _Ah /i _, Brethany thought, i _Harry. Of course /i . _"And it won't be fun for her, believe me. I vividly remember when I contracted it twelve years ago, when I was twenty-three. I was in France at the time, and thankfully had a roof over my head." He paused, his voice slightly strained. "The Dragonpox hit during the full moon." Brethany winced mentally in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Remus," Harry's voice was disturbingly adult, as though he fully realized and understood the pain the older man had suffered and survived.

"Thank you, Harry," Remus spoke quietly, accepting the comfort the younger man offered. Neither spoke for a long moment, and Brethany decided to let them know that she was awake.

"Wngyuhshplzzz?" The two males jumped at the sound, and Brethany groaned. That was supposed to come out slightly less…garbled.

"Brethany!" The DADA teacher groaned again as she opened her eyes slowly. All she could see was a light blur, punctuated here and there with darker blurs, two of which quickly became bigger as Harry and Remus moved toward the bed. "How are you feeling?" Hands moved to help her sit up. Gradually, Brethany's vision cleared, and two concerned faces became clear.

"Rmsss…" Brethany grimaced at the garbled word, and the two males grinned. "Htyubs," she growled at them half-heartedly, and Remus laughed, having caught the gist of what she was saying.

"Here," the werewolf brought a goblet of water over to the bed, a straw hanging over the rim. "Drink slowly." Brethany glared, but obeyed, sucking the cool liquid gradually down her throat. "Better?"

"Yeah," she replied hoarsely, swallowing several times. "Better. What are you two doing here?"

Harry grinned at her. "Watching you sleep," he answered cheekily. "It can be recommended for those who have entirely too much excitement in their lives."

"I'm so happy that I could provide you with some much-needed boredom, then," the woman teacher said dryly. "Perhaps some extra homework, as well, just to ensure you get your 'daily dose'." Student and teacher stared expressionlessly at each other, then cracked up, laughing. For several seconds, the two looked at each other, giggling hysterically, until Brethany began coughing. Once her breathing went back to normal, the three sat in silence, simply looking at each other.

"Well, this is slightly awkward," Brethany quipped, her fingers tugging at the covers. "You both seem rather speechless. Is it my fantastic beauty that is stunning you, or is my bed-head really that horrific?"

Remus smiled, a hint of wistfulness in the expression. "I cannot speak for Harry, of course, but I was just thinking that you remind me a great deal of Harry's mother." Both young people looked at him in surprise, and the werewolf smiled.

"I do?" Brethany frowned in bemusement. "Well…I'm assuming you mean in temperament, then, because I know I don't look anything like Lily Potter." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, true, you don't have green eyes or red hair, and your nose is much nicer," Remus' eyes twinkled as Brethany choked on a laugh, "But you have the same stubborn tilt of your head when you've been challenged in some way, the same way of crossing your arms when you're aggravated, and the same exact gleam in your eye when you are arguing with Severus Snape."

"Mum didn't like Snape?" Harry asked in surprise. "I thought that she…" he trailed off slightly under his teachers' looks of surprise. "Er…"

"Oh, your mother was good friends with i _Professor /i _Snape, Harry, but she still argued with him. It was a…pastime, of sorts."

"You mean to say that you haven't seen or heard of my arguments with Severus, Harry?" Brethany laughed. "I would have thought the entire school would know about them by now, we've done it enough times."

"I have contrived to be discreet when responding to your carrying-on," a smooth voice spoke from the door, and all three jumped guiltily. Severus Snape entered the hospital wing with an expression of distaste, several small packages in his hand.

"Oh, presents!" Brethany grinned widely, trying to push herself up into a higher sitting position.

"Let me help you," Remus spoke up, moving quickly to her side. With the man's hands helping to lift her, she managed to sit almost straight up, with several thick pillows supporting her.

"Must you put your paws all over her in such a manner, Lupin?" Snape's tone was sharp. "Such repulsive displays should be saved for privacy, I should think," he added in disgust. Harry opened his mouth to begin shouting, but was deterred by the identical smiles of mischief on the other two adults' faces.

"Why, Severus," Remus began, moving to place a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Are you jealous?" Brethany finished, a bright smile on her face.

The Potions Master shrugged off the werewolf's hand, scowling at the two. "Your parents portkeyed these into the Headmaster's office," he said brusquely, ignoring the question. He tossed the packages onto Brethany's bed, then stalked off, his robes swirling ominously behind him. Remus and Brethany exchanged small grins before breaking out into chuckles.

Word Count: 1821


	10. Chapter 10

Previously…

_ i Severus Snape entered the hospital wing with an expression of distaste, several small packages in his hand. _

"_Oh, presents!" Brethany grinned widely, trying to push herself up into a higher sitting position._

"_Let me help you," Remus spoke up, moving quickly to her side. With the man's hands helping to lift her, she managed to sit almost straight up, with several thick pillows supporting her. _

"_Must you put your paws all over her in such a manner, Lupin?" Snape's tone was sharp. "Such repulsive displays should be saved for privacy, I should think," he added in disgust. Harry opened his mouth to begin shouting, but was deterred by the identical smiles of mischief on the other two adults' faces._

"_Why, Severus," Remus began, moving to place a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Are you jealous?" Brethany finished, a bright smile on her face._

_The Potions Master shrugged off the werewolf's hand, scowling at the two. "Your parents portkeyed these into the Headmaster's office," he said brusquely, ignoring the question. He tossed the packages onto Brethany's bed, then stalked off, his robes swirling ominously behind him. Remus and Brethany exchanged small grins before breaking out into chuckles. /i _

And Now…

"What do you suppose my parents sent me?" Brethany wondered, picking up the largest of the packages and shaking it languidly. She was beginning to feel tired, and hungry, and just a little crabby, as well. Granted, she felt much better than previously, but she obviously was not completely mended.

"Well, go on and open them," Harry urged, his own curiosity plain on his face. Brethany grinned, and began to tear through the brown paper.

The first package yielded a basic care package consisting of woolen socks, scarf, and cap, a dozen of her mother's ginger cookies(still warm), a pint of homemade blackberry preserves and several freshly sharpened eagle-feather quills. The second package, while smaller, proved to hold more, for when opened it revealed half a dozen books, shrunk with a charm.

"Is that i _Hutchinson's Guide to Dark Creatures /i _?" Remus was practically drooling. The younger woman watched in amusement as the werewolf caressed the miniaturized book. "This must be at least four hundred years old!"

"That's Dad's edition," she told him with a grin. "I owled him for it last week. I wanted the students to have a fairly reliable source to find stuff about vampires out in." The teacher paused, a slightly befuddled expression on her face. "I must be more tired than I thought. That last sentence did not come out right at all."

"What's this?" Harry pulled out a small, slender book with no title and flipped through it. "There's nothing inside."

"Oh, that's my old journal," Brethany informed him, taking the book. "Everything that you write in it gets stored so that you never have to buy another book. If you want to read past entries, you just press your thumb to the front page and say what entries, by date, you want to see. It's keyed to my thumbprint, so no one else can read it. Handy old thing," she spoke fondly.

"Oh," Harry frowned. "It sounds similar to Tom Riddle's diary." He grimaced. "I wonder if Ginny's ever seen something like this before."

"These sorts of diaries are fairly common over in the U.S.," Brethany pointed out. "They're likely just as much so over here." She paused. "Who is Tom Riddle? The name seems familiar." She watched the two males exchange glances. "Order business?" she guessed, and was rewarded with expressions of surprise. "Albus says that to me quite often. 'Excuse me, Brethany, I have some Order business to take care of.'. 'You'll pardon an old man his secrets, my dear, but that is an Order secret and Order business.'" The young woman growled in annoyance. "I know he's just doing it to get me riled up enough to challenge him on it, but really! If he wants me in the Order of the Phoenix, all he has to do is ask me!"

"Ah, but Brethany, I have been waiting for _you_ to ask _me_," Albus Dumbledore's cheery voice spoke up from the door.

Brethany sighed in resignation, hiding her surprise behind her amusement. "I suppose I should have been expecting you to be there. Hello, Albus, how has the Defense class been for you?" she asked dutifully, lolling her head back against the pillows in order to see the old wizard. "My students have been good for you, I hope." She raised an eyebrow at Harry, who grinned.

"Oh, yes, very good," the teenage boy reassured her. "Professor Dumbledore has been very…interesting." His voice was full of restrained laughter.

"What have you been teaching my students, Albus?" Brethany asked tiredly, then quickly amended, "Never mind, I don't want to know." Remus laughed quietly at her small shiver of apprehension.

"Several more packages just arrived for you," the Headmaster spoke jovially, his eyes twinkling bright. "I'm beginning to think my office is a delivery station. Fawkes is unhappy with me, I'm afraid, but he is rather temperamental during his molting period."

"More presents?" Brethany's eyebrows shot up in surprise. What on earth… Dumbledore set the three packages on the bed, and the sick young woman chuckled. "Oh, I see. They're from my brothers, the twins." She gestured to the labels on the brown paper reading ' b **TOXIC, handle with care /b **', ' b **This Side Up When Portkeying; Reverse When Apparating /b .**', ' b **Handle With Care: Spontaneous Combustion May Occur /b **', ' b **Do Not Open Without Secret Code b **', and lastly, ' b **Beware of Grape With Wooden Mallet /b **'. Brethany proceeded to tear into the smallest package with an insane cackle of delight.

"Are those…potions?" Harry asked in confusion. Brethany's head popped up, an expression of unholy glee on her face.

"Oh, you've no idea," she purred out with delight. "The twins like to experiment with potions, rather like the Weasley boys…some of their best ideas were based on some joking remark someone has said…they make the _best_ prank potions i _ever /i _. They turned the entire house into gingerbread last Christmas, and then had the gall to blame it on my sister and I." The young woman's grin threatened to split her face. "Mom pulled the old couch and sibling-Inquisition trick, and they confessed." She grinned at the men's befuddled expression. "She sat us all down on a couch, stuck us there with a sticking hex that none of the rest of us know the counter to, and then left us there until we'd pretty much verbally beaten the truth out of the guilty party. Works every time."

"You have an odd family," Harry remarked wistfully, then grinned. "Maybe as odd as the Weasleys."

"It's a large family thing," his teacher replied distractedly, tearing into the second package. "You have i _got /i _ to be _kidding _me," she spoke flatly, staring down into the small cardboard box. "I'm going to kill them; kill them dead."

"What is it?" Harry craned his head over Brethany's shoulder. "What i _is /i _that?" The plain disgust in the teenager's voice startled Remus out of his book. Even Dumbledore joined in staring down at the box's contents.

It was a mass of writhing, gray wings, and tiny squeaking noises occasionally escaped the confines of the box. Brethany let out an annoyed sigh and reached into the box. Grimacing slightly, she lifted the bundle of writhing creatures out by invisible strings. As expected, there were other small bundles beneath, also wrapped in invisible netting.

"Fresh potion ingredients," she finally explained to the curious males. "They i _know /i _ I hate bats, so of course they put them at the top of the box."

"That's definitely as fresh as they get," Harry groaned. "They expect you to _kill_ all those yourself?" Brethany had to laugh.

"Oh, they're not for me," she chuckled. "I'm afraid I've never had any particular affinity for making potions, though I'm not bad at it. There's a certain similarity between Potions and Wand-Making…oh, look, they sent me some new cores, too!" The young woman delicately lifted out a small wooden box. "Oh, I like this box. Very nice, very strong nullifying characteristics…they're getting extra Christmas presents for this." She suddenly squealed in excitement. "They sent me a collection of woods? I _love_ them! I can finally make that wand!" The three males watched in bemusement as the young woman began mumbling over the packages.

"What is all this?" Poppy's sharp voice entered the room before the nurse did. "Brethany! You should be resting! What are you all doing in here?! I have sick patients here! Out! Out!" The three males fled, looking properly chastised, rather as though they'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Poppy then turned on her patient. "As for you, Brethany! You know you should be resting! You'll have a relapse!" The nurse caught sight of the young teacher's tired grin, and huffed in annoyance. "You are entirely too much like those two boys that just left. You three don't even have to _look_ for trouble; it simply finds you." Brethany affected an innocent look, and the nurse snorted inelegantly. "Don't you give me that, you horrible child," she spoke fondly even as she moved packages from the bed to a nearby table.

"I'm not a child," Brethany pouted slightly, too tired to protest the treatment. "Poppy, can I have something to eat, I'm hungry," a hint of whining crept into her voice. "You wouldn't dare starve your patients, would you?"

"Deign to remove that pathetic expression from your face, Miss Lewis," Severus glided through the door before Poppy had time to respond. "Please at the least pretend you are older than the majority of the students here."

"I don't know, Professor Snape," the younger teacher pouted even further, "When you and Poppy treat me as though I'm twelve, I don't see why I can't act as though I am twelve." She grinned slightly. "Besides, you're doing the verbal equivalent of yanking my pigtails, and you know what they say about the boy who yanks a girl's pigtails…"

The potions master raised a dark eyebrow. "No, Miss Lewis, I am unaware what 'they' say, but I am sure you are about to enlighten me."

Brethany's grin widened. "You only pull the pigtails of the girl you like," she quoted in a sing-song voice. Both women watched in fascination as Snape's face flushed, then paled, then flushed again. Wordlessly, the man tossed a vial onto Brethany's bed, then turned and swept out the door, his face still unusually flushed.

"Oh, my goodness," Poppy breathed out in astonishment, "I've seen the impossible." Visibly gathering herself, the nurse turned and swooped down upon her patient. "Here, drink this, Brethany." The young woman was barely given time to open her mouth before she was force-fed the potion Severus had left. "You can't eat just yet, but this will provide what you need. Now, you go to sleep, or I'll hex you there." Brethany grimaced, then slumped in exhaustion. She really was tired…

Word Count: 1621


	11. Chapter 11

i _Brethany's grin widened. "You only pull the pigtails of the girl you like," she quoted in a sing-song voice. Both women watched in fascination as Snape's face flushed, then paled, then flushed again. Wordlessly, the man tossed a vial onto Brethany's bed, then turned and swept out the door, his face still unusually flushed._

_"Oh, my goodness," Poppy breathed out in astonishment, "I've seen the impossible." Visibly gathering herself, the nurse turned and swooped down upon her patient. "Here, drink this, Brethany." The young woman was barely given time to open her mouth before she was force-fed the potion Severus had left. "You can't eat just yet, but this will provide what you need. Now, you go to sleep, or I'll hex you there." Brethany grimaced, then slumped in exhaustion. She really was tired…_ /i

And Now…

"Poppy, you will let me out of this place this instant! I refuse to stay here for one minute longer! You cannot imprison me here for the rest of the term, I won't allow it! And give me back my wand! Poppy! Ouch! Stop that, you old dragon! I i _will not_ /i get back in that bed again! Poppy!"

Albus Dumbledore paused outside of the infirmary, a bemused smile on his face as he listened to the shouts from the other side of the doors. His two guests cocked their heads in interest and grinned.

"She's well on her way to recovery," the man at his right murmured, "If she can yell like that. Of course, she could always yell like that, even when she hadn't slept in a week. i _Especially_ /i if she hadn't slept in a week."

"Nasty temper, that girl," the other added with a nod. "Can't think where she got it from."

The first man snorted in disbelief. "Well, I know where if you don't. Mom may have been a Hufflepuff, but she has a nasty temper of her own when she gets riled up."

"Something which happens regularly around you two, I suppose," Dumbledore suggested mildly, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Who, i _us_ /i ?" the two men, obviously brothers by their almost identical features, chorused innocently. "I'll have you know that we very rarely got into trouble, Headmaster," one began. "Yes, and when we i _did_ /i get in trouble, we just got ourselves right back out of it! Mom always loved us more than the other kids," the other man added proudly. Dumbledore only chuckled, then turned his attention back to the now almost silent infirmary, only to hear one of his favorite teachers ranting to herself.

"…Bossy, overbearing, dictatorial, domineering, heavy-handed, sharp-tongued, slave-driving, despotic i _tyrant_ /i of an old dragon!" The doors of the infirmary were practically blown open with the force of Brethany's shove. The young woman stomped out of the room, a harsh scowl on her face and wand clutched firmly in hand. "Of all the nerve! How dare she forbid me to…" the rest of the rant degenerated into furious mumbles as the young woman stalked blindly down the corridor, not even noticing the three men in her anger.

"Do you think she realizes she's not wearing any pants under that hospital gown," one of the brothers whispered quietly, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Probably as much as she noticed us standing here," the other responded quietly. "Should we stop her?" The two exchanged grins. "Nah!"

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore murmured quietly. The two brothers looked at him questioningly, then followed his pointed gaze to the tall, dark-haired wizard headed towards their sister. "That, my boys, is Severus Snape, of whom I am sure you have heard much." The two young men looked the Slytherin Head of House over in interest, then turned back to the Headmaster.

"I hear your 'oh, dear', and raise it to 'oh, crap'," one of the young men muttered, turning back to watch the coming clash.

"Ms. Lewis," the Potions Professor's acerbic tones echoed down the stone walls to the three eavesdroppers, " i _What_ /i , may I ask, are you doing wandering the corridors half-naked? Trying to seduce students, are you?"

"Ooo," all three listeners winced. "She's gonna kill him," one young man whispered.

"What?! How dare- Why you- you- you-" Brethany was speechless with anger, practically sputtering with fury.

"I am amazed by your quick retort," Severus smirked nastily, dark eyes glinting. To his horror, however, the young woman's anger seemed to be dissipating into another, more volatile emotion.

"You- you're so mean to me, Snape, and-and" Brethany's face began to crumple, "I'm so i _tired_ /i of it, and I really wanted you to like me, and I just i _respect_ /i you so much, and I thought, maybe, just maybe you might re- return it, and- and- I think I'm going to faint…" and so she did, crumpling downwards in an ungraceful heap. Snape rushed to catch her, a positively stricken expression on his face that was astounding to the Headmaster and quite satisfying to the two brothers.

"Ms. Lewis!" the dark man awkwardly cradled the young woman in his arms. "Ms. Lew- Brethany, wake up!" The Slytherin's face became stern. "Ms. Lewis, you will open your eyes this instant!" He shook her shoulders slightly, his expression faintly panicked.

"So romantic, Severus," Brethany's voice was slightly muffled by his robes. "Do you always treat the girls you catch in this manner? Or am I the first one? Lucky me…"

Snape scowled as he lifted his colleague to her feet, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulders even as he retorted, "Your theatrics are disgusting for a woman your age, and as for you throwing yourself at me-"

"Throwing myself at you?! Severus Snape, why you-"

"And so they're at it again," one of the men spying on them spoke up loudly. "Tell me, Headmaster, do the two of them really squabble like kids every time they're near each other?" The two teachers halted in their argument to stare at the three intruders.

"Ted? Ed? What in the world are you two doing here?" Brethany stared in bewilderment as two of her brothers swooped down on her.

"Hey, sis! Where's our 'hello'? Don't you love us?" Both young men offered up pouts, and the young woman couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, you two! Come here!" Snape stepped back into the shadows to watch as the three siblings embraced.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend, Brethany?" Identical grins turned toward the Potions Master, who scowled.

"Oh, yes, I suppose I should. Professor Snape, these are two of my older brothers, Theodore and Edward Lewis. Teddy, Ed, this is Professor Severus Snape, our resident Potions Master and teacher." Brethany's expression was positively evil as she remarked, "Theodore and Edward are both very interested in the topic of potions, Professor Snape. I'm sure that you will enjoy discussing things with them." She pulled away from her brothers' arms. "Meanwhile, I am going to my rooms to find some real clothes. If you'll excuse me…"

"Nice try, Brethany," Ted grabbed her arm as she swayed slightly. "You're about to fall on your face, and you're barely dressed. You'd pass out in the middle of the hall and be found by a group of teenage boys, with your luck."

Brethany snorted. "It would be the highlight of their school year, if they did." Wearily, she laid her head back on her brother's shoulder. "I've been stuck in that bed for the past i _week_ /i ; don't make me go back…I don't wanna go back…" Her voice rose in a quiet whine, causing her brothers to chuckle.

"Oh, stop your whining," Edward spoke fondly. "At least i _pretend_ /i that you're older than your own students." He exchanged amused glances with his older brother. "I never thought I'd be saying something like that to our little sister."

"Speak for yourself," their sister snorted. "Teaching was definitely i _not_ /i what I was expecting to do. Mom insisted I had to do something not magically taxing for a while, before I exhausted my magical core. You know, having a healer for a mother can be annoying sometimes?"

"Mm," the twins responded in good humor, obviously having heard it before. "By the way, Mom said to tell you to avoid using your wand for a few days…something about your magic needing to settle down before being forced through the focus of the wand." Brethany groaned quietly. "Too late?" Teddy asked gleefully.

"I kinda petrified Poppy and tied her to the bed," the young woman admitted, a small smile playing across her face. "Felt good," she added quietly. "Teach i _her_ /i to keep me in bed for almost a week." Behind them, Dumbledore stifled his chuckles in his beard. "I was too mad to even realize that using the wand as a focus was probably a bad idea. My magic's probably screwed for the next few days. Great," Brethany sighed in exhausted frustration.

"So your propensity for doing stupid things in the heat of the moment is still running as strong as ever?" Edward grinned down at his sister, the gleam in his eye causing her ire to deflate.

"Yeeees," Brethany whined wearily. "And it's i _not /i _funny! Ever since I got sick, I've just been so i _tired /i _!! I don't have the energy to do anything but sleep, and when I do, I just have nightmares, so I don't sleep very well…" her voice trailed off as she caught the expressions on her brothers' faces. "Er…"

"The nightmares are back? Brethany, you should have told someone! You know how dangerous it is not to have someone nearby to wake you up!" Both Edward and Theodore were furious, not only with their sister, but also with themselves, their family, and their sister's colleagues. "Why didn't you know about this, Headmaster?" Edward rounded on the old wizard. "I know Mom warned you and Poppy Pomfrey about her nightmares; why didn't either of you do anything about it?!"

"Because they didn't know!" Brethany didn't allow Albus to defend himself. "You think I was going to let them know that I was having a few pathetic nightmares?!? Edward Franklin Lewis, how dare you treat me like some child who must have caregivers! Those nightmares are i _my_ /i problem, not theirs! They didn't need to be dragged into it! It's not a medical problem, so Poppy didn't need to know, and it wasn't affecting my teaching, so Albus didn't need to know!"

"What?!? Exactly how long have you been having nightmares, Brethany? And what are you talking about, 'They didn't need to know'? You cannot just decide to do this on your-"

" i _Silencio_ /i !"

"Thank you i _so_ /i much, Mr. Lewis, for not doing that sooner," Snape barked sarcastically at the older of the twins. "Now what, may I ask, were they babbling on about?"

"Brethany's magical inheritance was rather intense when it hit," Theodore explained rapidly, holding his sister back from covering his mouth. "It demolished the house she was in at the time, and almost killed a couple people." Snape raised a doubtful eyebrow. "I'm not exaggerating, believe me. Anyway, for a couple years after that, she had terrible nightmares as a result of waking up to the house pretty much on top of her."

"She is claustrophobic," the Potions Master concluded, glittering black eyes taking in the flush of shame adorning the young woman's face.

"And she doesn't like being stuck in one place for long periods of time," Ted added. "It makes the walls close in around her." He paused. "If there's not someone nearby when she gets stuck in a nightmare, she sometimes can't get herself out. The first time that happened, she was in a coma for over a week; the second time, it was only for two days, but we aren't positive why there was such a time difference." The young man sighed. "I suppose we'd better give them their voices back before they kill us.

" i _Finite_ /i ." As soon as the spell was lifted, Brethany moved away from her older brothers' grasp, striving to hold the tears at bay. "Brethany," Ted tried to approach her, but she only pushed his hand away.

"Leave me alone, Ted," she managed to whisper, swallowing down a sob. "I'm going to my room, and I don't want either of you following me. I will ward my room against you two, and you know I can do it." Her red-rimmed eyes lifted to meet her brothers'. "I know you mean well, and I love you for it, but I i _cannot_ /i handle your over-protectiveness right now. Just- just leave me alone. I don't want to see you until I can get a handle on my emotions, and I can't do that until I have some peace and quiet and time to clear my mind." Brethany looked at the two other men. "In fact, I don't want to see i _anyone_ /i right now, except for Harry. I would like to see him, and possibly Remus, as well. No one else."

Her gaze sought out her colleague's. "Professor Snape, I would be grateful if you would help me to my rooms. Albus, I'm sorry, but I won't be up to teaching DADA for another few days, possibly even a week. Between my nightmares, recuperating from the dragon pox, and my magic reshaping itself, I need several days to get myself straight. I hope that taking two weeks of sick leave in my first term will not be too terrible on my record, but," she took in a deep breath, "It can't be helped. At this point, I'm too tired to care if I get fired."

"Ed, Ted," Brethany tried to smile, but failed terribly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, but I meant what I said: I can't handle you two right now. In a couple days, maybe, but not today, and probably not tomorrow. I love you, I really do, but right now, I'm emotionally, physically, and mentally drained, and both my magic i _and_ /i my hormones spiked recently." All four men blanched slightly, suddenly understanding part of the whole dramatic episode. "Hm, yes, I see that you're beginning to comprehend," the young woman spoke dryly, her emotions subsiding slightly. "Severus? If you would, please?" The Potions professor silently offered the support of his arm, not even noticing the usage of his given name. "Good day, gentlemen, I'm going to go take a bath, then go to bed and try to forget the fact that I'm alive. Please do the same for a couple days."

Word Count: 2256


	12. Chapter 12

Last Time…

i _"Ed, Ted," Brethany tried to smile, but failed terribly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, but I meant what I said: I can't handle you two right now. In a couple days, maybe, but not today, and probably not tomorrow. I love you, I really do, but right now, I'm emotionally, physically, and mentally drained, and both my magic /i and i my hormones spiked recently." All four men blanched slightly, suddenly understanding part of the whole dramatic episode. "Hm, yes, I see that you're beginning to comprehend," the young woman spoke dryly, her emotions subsiding slightly. "Severus? If you would, please?" The Potions professor silently offered the support of his arm, not even noticing the usage of his given name. "Good day, gentlemen, I'm going to go take a bath, then go to bed and try to forget the fact that I'm alive. Please do the same for a couple days."_ /i

And Now…

Blearily, Brethany raised her head, trying to focus through the haze of sleep in order to discover what had awoken her. Slowly, the sound of knocking on the door permeated sluggish ears and she managed to sit up.

"Rrrghchmntwtscnd," the young woman managed to mumble as she staggered out of the bed and toward the door. "T's t'early fer th's." She managed even through the haze over her eyes to grab a robe on the way, just tying it as she opened the door.

"Brethany?"

"H'rry? Wh'tchuu doin' 'ere?" Brethany squinted at the young man in bleary confusion. The Gryffindor merely looked amused.

"I'm here to wake you up, if you were asleep, and if you weren't, I'm supposed to make you go to bed." The teenage boy grinned. "I'm going to assume you were asleep, judging by the pattern of lines imprinted on the side of your face." His teacher gazed at him without comprehension before grunting and turning to go back to her bed. "Was that a 'come in'?" Harry was left standing in the doorway as Brethany disappeared into her bedroom. "Right-o, I'll just come in and make myself comfortable, shall I?" There was another grunt in reply. "I'll take that as a 'yes', then," the boy muttered to himself, then went about exploring his teacher's sitting room.

Ten minutes and a i _very_ /i cold shower later, Brethany emerged looking relatively human. At once, she saw the teenage boy curled up on her couch, a large book cradled in his lap.

"Enjoying yourself," she asked impishly, delighting in the boy's startled jump. "Careful, Harry, I wouldn't want that book broken."

Harry sheepishly closed the book, hiding a small grin. "Well, i you're /i certainly in a good mood today. Feeling better?"

"Mm. Some. I still feel tired and a bit woozy, but I think the power spikes have stopped." Brethany began rummaging through a shelf of books. "Ahah! Here it is!" She delightedly waved a large, square package in the air. "This is my emergency stash. If you're really, really nice to me, I'll share it with you. Otherwise, as you Brits say, bugger off."

"What is it?" The teenage boy watched with interest as his teacher tore open the box and pull out several smaller items. "You're joking…sweets?"

"Chocolate, young man, is i _not _/i just candy. It's ambrosia, a mud-colored, smooth, thick ambrosia that the Greek pantheon of gods were unlucky enough to never taste." Brethany tore into a bar of chocolate, her expression hungry. "I'm sure having Hermione as a friend, you understand that standing between a girl and her chocolate is, at times, suicidal?" Harry gulped; he knew. The whole Gryffindor house knew not to mess with the bushy-haired girl when she had sequestered herself in a corner with stacks of chocolate and books. Sometimes the stack of chocolate was higher than the stack of books; when that happened, not even Ron was stupid enough to approach their friend.

"I see you understand me," Brethany spoke wryly, looking at her student with a small grin. "Here, try this." She tossed him a candy bar.

"Snickers?" the teenager looked at the young woman curiously. "A candy bar called 'Snickers'?"

"Just eat it, Harry."

There was quiet for a few moments, but for the tearing of wrappers. The two sat in companionable silence, occasionally grinning at each other around a bite of chocolate. After several bars of chocolate, plus a few other pieces of candy, Harry started looking a bit green. Brethany noticed, and grinned.

"OK, that's enough candy for you, mister. I'm cutting you off." She looked regretfully at the box of candy. "I suppose I'd better quit for a while, also."

"Ergh." Harry groaned. "How can you want to eat more of that? You already ate twice as much as I did, and I feel like I'm going to heave."

Brethany laughed. "I'm a girl, and girls can consume a massive amount of chocolate at certain times. It's the only way we keep from killing off the male population." She gave him a sly grin. "Why do you think the South Americans created it? They didn't have Midol, so they invented chocolate." She smirked at the blank expression on the boy's face. Too much information, perhaps? Of course not.

"Alright, Harry," the young woman finally sighed. "What are you doing here?" The teenager hurriedly assumed an innocent face. "U-huh. Sure. I don't think so. Try again, Harry."

"Er…" her student looked vaguely embarrassed. "Your brothers asked me to visit you. They said you were having a hard time coping with the convalescent stage, whatever that means, and that you needed someone to cheer you up." Brethany snorted in aggravated amusement. "Er…were they right?" Harry asked carefully, looking ready to flee should the need become apparent.

"Partially," his teacher admitted. "I am going a bit stir crazy, but that's mostly Poppy's fault. I haven't been permitted to do anything constructive for almost a week."

"She does that to everybody," Harry informed her, a small grin playing on his face. "Although, I do think she has some favorite patients to torture. I'm one of them, as is Snape." The two unfortunates grinned at each other in mutual aggravation.

"Anyway, I may have lost my temper rather spectacularly last night," Brethany admitted guiltily. "Between almost fainting in the hallway, being unable to walk under my own power alone, and having my older brothers scolding and worrying over me, I'm afraid I let the annoyance of being stuck abed for a week get away from me. I'm surprised you didn't hear me yelling at my brothers last night," she chuckled weakly. "I don't deal well with a steady build up of annoyances. The combined stress sneaks up on me unnoticed, and then I just blow up at whoever's nearby. It's very good stress relief, yelling is, but not at all fair to whoever's on the receiving end."

Harry gave her a 'duh' look. "So you're not at all mad at your brothers for getting worried over you?" Brethany cast him a sharp look, at which he smiled sheepishly. "They told me about the nightmares. Believe me, I understand. If anyone understands someone having a problem with nightmares, it would i _definitely_ /i be me. Not very many people dream about what Voldemort's doing every night, i _and_ /i know for a fact that the dream is real."

"Mm." Brethany murmured in agreement, watching her student's face. For a long moment, they sat in silence, just looking at each other. Finally, the teacher stirred herself to ask, "Have you been practicing your Occlumency while I was sick?"

Harry brightened. "Yeah, I have. I've been going to the Room of Requirement every evening." They shared grins. "I'm down to three seconds of concentration before my shields are completely raised." At her expression of surprise, he shrugged self-consciously. "I've been using it during the day to control my emotions…"

"Let me guess," Brethany spoke teasingly, "A girl?" She chuckled at his embarrassed flush. "Who is it? I know it's not Ginny Weasley, and it's i _definitely_ /i not Hermione. I've watched the rest of your female housemates, and none of the ones your age are really interested in anything other than a superficial relationship with the Boy Who Lived." She watched his expression of mild disgust. "So…it's someone from a different house…between fourth year and seventh year…it is a i _girl_ /i , right? Right, right, girl, check…hmm…" She kept her eyes on the blushing boy in front of her. "It's Pansy Parkinson, isn't it? She's secretly a spy for Dumbledore against the Dark side, and she's fallen in love with you…you finally discovered her love when your hands met under the table in the Potions laboratory…now you'll do anything to keep her from getting hurt, so you must keep your relationship secret from everyone, even your own friends, lest her parents swoop down upon Hogwarts and take your love away from you." She sighed dramatically, then grinned at the horrified boy. "So, am I right?"

"You," the teenager sputtered, "Are terrible. Pansy, she's just- I can't believe you- she's as bad as- I dunno-"

"Luna Lovegood?" Brethany suggested mischievously, delighting in the instant rush of color. "Or is Luna infinitely more attractive?" The embarrassed glare answered her question. "I knew it! You know you can't hide anything from me, Harry. I've been ferreting out my siblings' secrets for so many years that it's become second nature." Harry crossed his arms and attempted to glare at her, the very image of a petulant teenage boy.

"That wasn't very nice," he mock-sulked, a tiny grin hovering around the corners of his mouth.

"I'm a teacher. Teacher's aren't supposed to be nice."

"Oh, well, i _finally_ /i one of you admits it! Tell me, is it true that the OWLs and NEWTs were specifically designed by the teachers as revenge on the students?" A mysterious grin was his only answer. "Trust me to befriend one of the more sadistic teachers," Harry muttered to himself. "The DADA position is cursed. Cursed!"

Brethany snorted her amusement. "So I've been told." She sighed regretfully. "Alright, I can't put it off any longer…Harry, would you do me a favor? I need to talk to my brothers, but I want you here as well…as a kind of buffer, you understand? I don't want to start yelling at them again, and I think if you're here, they'll hold back on a lot of their babying me." At his nod, she sighed again. "Let me go fire-call them, then."

Word Count: 1738


	13. Chapter 13

Previously…

i _"I'm a teacher. Teacher's aren't supposed to be nice."_

_"Oh, well, i finally /i one of you admits it! Tell me, is it true that the OWLs and NEWTs were specifically designed by the teachers as revenge on the students?" A mysterious grin was his only answer. "Trust me to befriend one of the more sadistic teachers," Harry muttered to himself. "The DADA position is cursed. Cursed!"_

_Brethany snorted her amusement. "So I've been told." She sighed regretfully. "Alright, I can't put it off any longer…Harry, would you do me a favor? I need to talk to my brothers, but I want you here as well…as a kind of buffer, you understand? I don't want to start yelling at them again, and I think if you're here, they'll hold back on a lot of their babying me." At his nod, she sighed again. "Let me go fire-call them, then."_ /i

And Now…

Brethany looked up from her desk as the sixth year Gryffindor-Slytherin class entered the classroom, chatting quietly. The group of teenagers quieted suddenly, and the young woman was gratified to see several students beaming.

"Good morning," she greeted them quietly. "You're a few minutes early, aren't you? It's only eight-fifteen."

"We just wanted to w-welcome you back," Neville Longbottom stuttered out, his face flushed in slight embarrassment. A murmur of agreement arose from the rest of the Gryffindors, and most of the Slytherins signified their own happiness with their expressions of subdued pleasure.

"Thank you," Brethany smiled, highly pleased with her welcome. "I hope I don't change that when I give you the test I had planned for today…" Groans filled the room, but they were good-natured for the most part. "No, I wouldn't do that to you guys on my first day back. I wouldn't do that to i me /i on my first day back," she added jokingly, and several students chuckled obligingly. "Well, we're going to have a special class today, mostly because I feel like getting out of this classroom." The teacher grinned at the instant interest.

"We're going to have a combined DADA and Magical Creatures class. Professor Hagrid has some very interesting creatures that are only for the two upper years to study, so we're going to go down towards the Forbidden Forest, by the thestrals' paddocks."

After much clattering and quiet chattering, the entire class made its way outside, Brethany in the lead. She permitted the mild chaos to continue as they walked down the path towards the forest, grinning to herself at the somewhat-friendly bickering between the two houses.

"We missed your teaching," Harry spoke quietly from behind her, and she turned her head to look at him. The teenager was flushed from having jogged up to her, and his eyes were bright from the coolness of the open air.

"Well, I knew i _you_ /i missed me," the teacher teased him back, "But I was rather pleasantly surprised when the entire class seemed to be so relieved at my return." She cast him a laughing glance. "Were the combined efforts of the Headmaster and Professor Snape not good enough?"

"Between Professor Dumbledore's rather… i _happy_ /i …lessons, and Professor Snape's rather /i _grim_ /i lessons, we were never quite sure what to expect from DADA class," Harry admitted freely, shaking his head slightly in disgust. "Not that the lessons were bad," he hastened to add, "They just weren't all that great, compared to yours. Professor Dumbledore seemed slightly patronizing, and Professor Snape was…Snape."

"How very succinct, Potter," Draco Malfoy drawled, hurrying to catch up with them. "I'm sure my godfather would appreciate such a shoddy description of himself." He watched as the other teenager rolled his eyes, then smirked at Brethany. "Not to say that Potter is incorrect in his description of classes, of course. I have made it known to my father that it would be wise to keep you on staff for as long as you are amenable. It is quite time that we received a decent teacher in the Dark Arts."

"I rather think it's supposed to be 'Defense i _Against_ /i ' Dark Arts, Malfoy," Harry spoke wryly, a small grin on his face.

Brethany finally spoke up. "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Mr. Potter." She grinned at the two boys. "I have been and will be teaching you quite a bit about the Dark Arts, as well as how to defend against them. You can't learn one without the other, after all. I should know, growing up as I did." The teenagers gave her wary looks. "Didn't you know? My father practices the Dark Arts rather frequently in his job, and there have been several times when someone tried to assassinate him in our home. I grew up around the Dark Arts, and picked it up rather quickly. How do you think I got so comfortable with the subject?" She smirked at their surprised expressions. "Ah, here we are."

The class halted in front of the large paddocks, some looking apprehensive, some bored, and others, excited. Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Keeper of Keys and the grounds of Hogwarts, smilingly approached the class.

"'Ello, there, everybody!"

"Hello, Professor Hagrid!" several voices spoke up in answer, most especially the Gryffindor trio. "Hello, Hagrid," Brethany nodded, and hit the half-giant on the arm in greeting. "How are they today? Not too skittish, I hope?"

"Naw, Miss Brethany, they're doin' just fine," the big man answered with a grin. "Lookin' for'ard to it, I'm sure they are." His eyes surveyed the class. "A nice bunch o' students ye got there, I must say."

"And they're extremely well-behaved," Brethany cast a warning glance over the class. "There won't be any problems, especially considering that if anyone acts up, they could wind up missing an arm, or other, more important bits." She grinned wickedly at the reactions that remark garnered, causing the other teacher to cough over a chuckle. "Do you mind if I do the introduction, Hagrid?" At his nod, she grinned and gestured the students closer.

"Alright, you lot, do any of you have an idea what this lesson might be about?" Most of the students exchanged blank looks. "Hm. Ok then, let me ask another question: What do you see within these paddocks? Mr. Longbottom?"

"Thestrals, Professor?"

"You say that you can see them, Mr. Longbottom?" At the boy's tense nod, Brethany gave him an encouraging smile. "How many of you are actually able to see them, then?" A handful of hands rose into the air, the majority of them belonging to Slytherins. "Alright, then. Let's see…there's seven of you that can see the thestrals? I want each of you seven to take two of your classmates who i can't /i see them and form a group away from the others. Mr. Malfoy, you take two Gryffindors; Mr. Potter, you take two Slytherins; Mr. Longbottom, you take a Slytherin and a Gryffindor; Miss Zabini, you take…" Brethany continued giving out directions, until the entire class was split into seven groups, each standing several yards from the others.

"Now that's done, we can get to the actual lesson." Brethany approached the paddock gate and leaned against it. "First question: are thestrals classified as Dark Creatures?" Several hands went up in the air. "Miss Patil?"

"Thestrals are classified as Dark Creatures, Professor Lewis."

"Very good, Miss Patil. As of 1876, the Ministry of Magic classified thestrals as Dark Creatures. Now, second question: i are /i thestrals Dark Creatures, as per the definition we managed to work out for ourselves?" Several frowns began to emerge, and even Hagrid was looking intrigued.

"Excuse me, Professor Lewis," a man's voice spoke up from behind the class, "May I ask, what exactly i _is_ /i your definition of Dark Creatures?" Brethany struggled to contain her grin at the sight of her brothers standing there, pleasant expressions on their faces.

"Messrs. Lewis," she nodded in greeting. "How nice of you to join my class today. Perhaps you would like to mingle among the students in order to fully enjoy the experience?" Heads turned toward the two men in curiosity. Ted grinned at her while his twin pretended to examine his fingernails.

"Well, Professor Lewis," the elder twin spoke in a mock-respectful voice, "That would be most enjoyable, but we would not wish to disrupt your class."

Brethany gave them a stern look, and cast aside any pretenses of disinterest. "If you two promise to behave yourselves, and i do not /i provoke the thestrals in any way, you may join us. If you cause any trouble I promise you, I will owl Mom about it. I won't have any of my students injured because of you."

"Ouch," Edward winced aloud. "Alright, Professor, we understand. Besides, what makes you think i we /i would cause trouble?" Brethany raised a doubtful eyebrow. "We'll be good," both twins promised, raising their hands to testify to their truthfulness. "Scout's honor."

Brethany snorted her amusement, then shook her head. "Fine, you can join us. Ok, class, I would like you to meet my older brothers, Theodore and Edward Lewis, who are here at Hogwarts to baby me while I was recuperating, and generally drive me crazy. Please feel free to ignore them, although they can be full of helpful information when they wish to be." The two men grinned and waved in response to the blatant stares. Brethany rolled her eyes. "Ted, if you would go Mr. Longbottom's group; Ed, you go to Mr. Malfoy's group." She watched as the two obeyed, grinning inside at their antics.

"Alright, then, you asked what our definition for Dark Creatures was? Who can answer that question?" Several hands went up. "Miss Granger?"

"A Dark Creature is any magical creature, including wizards and witches, that has an innate affinity towards a particular type of magic known as Dark Magic."

"Thank you, Miss Granger. To clarify that definition, does anyone remember what Dark Magic is? Mr. Malfoy?"

"Dark Magic is the branch of magic that is fuelled primarily by the darker emotions, namely anger, hatred, grief and despair."

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Now, back to my original question: i _are_ /i thestrals Dark Creatures?" Once again, blank looks were exchanged. "Perhaps I can help you consider the question by asking further questions. Tell me, what makes thestrals so unusual in the wizarding world?"

"Because only people who have seen death can see thestrals," Dean Thomas offered, his tone showing his discomfort.

"Hm. Another question, then: is it necessary to have seen death itself, or simply to have seen someone die? For that matter, need it have been a human being that died, or will another creature do?" Several people exchanged confused looks. "Let me clarify that. If a young child, say around five years old, was visiting his elderly and ailing grandfather, and said grandfather died in front of him, would that child then be able to see thestrals? Or would that child need to grow older, to a point where he understood what death was, and then 'see death' in order to be able to see thestrals? Is the seeing of death a conscious act of acknowledging a death for what it is, or is it simply the act of watching?" Discussions immediately began to crop up within the groups, and Brethany grinned to herself. This was what she enjoyed most about teaching, when the teenagers actually i _thought_ /i about these things, and even argued among themselves on their separate views.

Several answers were bandied about, but one was finally settled on. "Ok, so we're saying that it is necessary for a person to consciously acknowledge as well as visually sense a death. Now, since we've settled that, would it have to be another human being's death, or would any 'person' be acceptable? Suppose you watched a centaur die in front of you? Would that count as having 'seen death'? What about your familiar? If you watched your familiar die, would the same apply to that?" Once again, discussions rose.

"I'll help you with that one," Brethany finally spoke up. "I know that you could argue over that question for years before figuring out the truth. As it is, I have some facts that will answer the question. In 1923, a Dark Wizard wished to find the answer to this very question, so he kidnapped several magical children in order to conduct experiments, recording the results rather thoroughly. Using trial and error, he found that the children were only able to see thestrals if the creature they saw killed had either had the capability of speech, or had been in the capacity of a familiar. In other words, the children had to have some emotional link to the creature being killed, or they did not acknowledge the death." Once again, she grinned at their blank faces.

"Ok, let's try this: when you kill a bug, such as a mosquito, do you acknowledge that it has died, or do you simply acknowledge that it is gone?" Light began to dawn on them. "You know that your beef at supper used to be an animal, but do you even think about the fact that it died in order to come to your plate?" Heads began to nod in understanding. "Unless there is some sort of emotional correlation between yourself and the creature, you don't truly consciously acknowledge the death, do you? So, in the end, 'seeing death' is almost entirely emotional, isn't it?" There were murmurs of agreement. "So, another question: what does this observation have to do with whether or not thestrals are Dark Creatures?"

"If the thestrals' power of invisibility relies on the viewer's emotions, then that would directly correlate with the emotion that designates magic either Dark or Light," Brethany's older brother Ted spoke up, an expression of vast interest on his face.

"Most emotions connected with having 'seen death' would be darker rather than light, so thestrals must use Dark Magic in connection with their invisibility," Blaise Zabini spoke up, her dark eyes filled with sudden understanding.

"How many of you would agree with that conclusion?" Brethany asked the rest of the group. All but a few raised their hands or nodded. "Which of you would raise objections?" She nodded toward Harry. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I agree that there is some correlation between a thestral's invisibility and the viewer's emotions," the teenager spoke quietly, "But I don't agree that the thestrals rely on Dark Magic." Several faces screwed up in confusion, and the teenage boy hastened to explain. "Well, if a person with the darker emotions that come from seeing death can also see the thestrals, the thestral's magic must not be working on him. So, dark emotions, and thus Dark Magic, must negate the thestral's magic. If thestrals used Dark Magic to fuel their invisibility, then the darker emotions from seeing death would fuel the invisibility, rather than rendering it null." Brethany noted how Hermione Granger stared at her friend in amazement. "It's only logical," Harry concluded, shrugging in embarrassment.

"So, thestrals i _don't_ /i use Dark Magic?" one of the pureblooded students spoke up.

"I would say that thestrals are Light Creatures," Harry shrugged again. "If only darker emotions cause their magic to fail, then they must use Light Magic to fuel their invisibility."

"How many of you believe thestrals to be Light Creatures now," Brethany spoke up, scanning her students. Most of the group raised their hands, though some looked confused. "How many of you are not certain, and would like to research the topic more thoroughly?" The rest of the students raised their hands. "How many of you would like to personally meet these creatures?" All the hands went down, and Brethany laughed. "Oh, come on, now! They won't hurt you unless they are provoked. Several students here have actually ridden on them and weren't even nipped, from what I understand." The Gryffindors referred to exchanged small smiles. "Well, you will all be expected to write a report on thestrals, so I suggest you pay attention and learn everything about them that you can, even if by feeling what you cannot see." She grinned over at the other professor. "I will now hand this class over to Professor Hagrid."

As the half-giant began to teach about the physical characteristics and abilities of the creatures, Brethany beckoned her brothers to join her by the paddock. "Well, that was interesting," Ed spoke quietly, grinning at his sister.

"It was," Ted agreed, his eyes gleaming. "You're an excellent teacher, Brethany, better than I expected." He dodged a half-hearted punch. "That was meant as a compliment, sis. You made it very interesting, and you got most of the students involved in the discussion. Not to mention, you made them actually think for themselves, and that's not easy to do with this age group. They're a good bunch of kids." Their younger sister looked pleased, both from the compliments, and for her students.

"It took some doing to get them to work together, but I've succeeded for the most part." She looked over at the group of students. "It's taken a mixture of bullying, cajoling and humor, but they've come around quite a bit. It helps that they've got some of the most brilliant students in the school in their class. Most of the rest of the students are a bit stupid." Brethany instantly looked chagrined. "I shouldn't say that. They're no stupider than the average person, but it's hard to deal with in bulk. Homeschooling sheltered us from that, I think." Her brothers looked amused.

"It's time to let the thestrals out, Breth- I mean, Professor Lewis," Harry's voice came from behind them. "Hagrid said I could lead a thestral to each group," he explained at her confused expression.

"Oh, ok," she nodded, then unlatched the gate. "You want any help, or do you have them?"

"I've got it," the teenage boy nodded his thanks, proceeding to approach the skittish thestrals.

"He's quite a kid," Ted observed quietly. Brethany sighed. "What was the sigh for?"

"That kid is sixteen years old, Ted, and he's already seen two people murdered right in front of him. His life has been in nearly constant danger since he was eleven, and he's had no one to really rely on but himself." She watched the teenager sooth a nervous thestral. "You know, I can see the thestrals because of that assassin who came after Dad. I 'saw death' when I was thirteen years old, when the guy had his own spell ricochet back at him. I had nightmares for a couple weeks, and that was it. Harry sees them because he watched a schoolmate murdered by someone who barely even noticed casting the Killing Curse." The twins winced. "He really i _is_ /i a great kid. He's so much like me, in fact, that it's scary."

Her brothers exchanged grins. "We'd noticed," they spoke together, glimmers of mischief in their eyes.

Word Count: 2988


	14. Chapter 14

Previously…

i _"He's quite a kid," Ted observed quietly. Brethany sighed. "What was the sigh for?"_

"_That kid is sixteen years old, Ted, and he's already seen two people murdered right in front of him. His life has been in nearly constant danger since he was eleven, and he's had no one to really rely on but himself." She watched the teenager sooth a nervous thestral. "You know, I can see the thestrals because of that assassin who came after Dad. I 'saw death' when I was thirteen years old, when the guy had his own spell ricochet back at him. I had nightmares for a couple weeks, and that was it. Harry sees them because he watched a schoolmate murdered by someone who barely even noticed casting the Killing Curse." The twins winced. "He really i is /i a great kid. He's so much like me, in fact, that it's scary."_

_Her brothers exchanged grins. "We'd noticed," they spoke together, glimmers of mischief in their eyes._ /i 

And Now…

Brethany was sorry to see her brothers leave when the time came, but she bade them farewell with a niggling sense of guilt at the tiny part of her that jumped for joy. She loved them, really she did, but they just didn't fit in her world at Hogwarts. They were a distraction, and they knew it. It was why they were leaving. They had admitted as such to her the evening they announced their departure.

u Flashback /u 

"You're happy here, aren't you, sis?" Ed asked fondly as he watched Brethany grade tests. Ted's head came up from the book he was reading in order to hear the answer.

"Well, yes, I am," Brethany spoke quietly, giving her elder brother a look of confusion. "I like teaching, for the most part, although I can't say I like i _all_ /i of it." She paused. "But it's not just the teaching that I like. I like the people here, the teachers and the students. I've made friends here, the sort that I didn't get the chance to make at home. Albus, he's my mentor of sorts, but he's also my equal, and my friend. I've gotten to know him in a capacity that I hadn't before. Minerva McGonagall, she's…well, she's somewhat like Mom, except that we can have a relationship that's not that of mother and daughter. She sees things about me, she knows when I'm having a bad day, she knows when to leave me to stew things out in peace, she knows to give me a good kick in the rear when it's needed." The young woman grinned, and her brothers chuckled.

"And Snape?" Ted slyly asked, laying the book down in order to better concentrate on his sister.

Brethany groaned. "Snape…oh, boy, how to describe my relationship with Snape? Um, I don't suppose we could skip that part?" The twins instantly grinned evilly. "Crap. Shouldn't've said that. Ok, um, let's see. My relationship with Severus Snape, Potions Master…um…"

"You argue with him, trade insults with him, glare at him when he refuses to look at you, ignore him when he's not in the mood to argue, which from what I've seen is almost never, and generally amuse each other beyond anything anyone else has ever seen of either of you," Ted summed up. "Tell me, Brethany, have you ever read Shakespeare's i _Much Ado About Nothing_ /i ?" Brethany rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile, seeing where he was going. "Beatrice and Benedic?" Ed choked on a laugh, and Ted grinned.

"Are you suggesting trying to con Severus Snape into falling in love with me," Brethany asked wryly. "Have fun with that, make sure you video tape it so I can see you get turned into potion ingredients." The twins laughed.

"Oh, we would gladly try it if we thought it would work," Ted told her, a mischievous grin on his face. "As it is, we just want to meddle in your love life. First, we need to know if you actually i _like_ /i Severus Snape in that way."

His sister rolled her eyes. "If you must know, yes, I do i _like_ /i Severus in that way. It does not, however, mean that I want our relationship to change in any way from what it is. I am just fine with us remaining friends. I'm not in love with him, and he doesn't need to be in love with me for me to be happy with our relationship."

"But you i _could_ /i be in love with him," the younger twin chimed in. "Just because you're not now, doesn't mean you couldn't be in the future. Do you want a romantic relationship with him?" Suddenly, his face screwed up in disgust. "Wait, what am I asking? You're my little sister, I don't want you to have a romantic relationship with anyone until you're thirty, or at least fifty!" Ted stood from his seat, walked over to his twin, hit him over the head with a book, then returned to his seat. "Hey!"

"Oh, grow up, already," his older brother retorted loftily. "But he is right, Brethany. About the future thing, not the other, I mean."

"He might be," their sister nodded. "That doesn't mean that I need you guys here, trying to set us up."

"No, you don't," Ted acknowledged. "In fact, you don't really need us here at all." When she began to protest, he halted her. "No, I mean it, Brethany. When Ed and I showed up at your class a week and a half ago, I knew it then. You're an adult, you're well trained in defending yourself physically, magically and verbally, and you're completely capable of pursuing what you want and need. You don't need us to protect you anymore. You don't need us here, so we're leaving in just a few days for home." At her expression of surprise, he grinned. "Ed and I talked it over last night and came to that conclusion." Brethany turned to look at her other brother.

Edward went over and embraced his sister. "Our baby's all grown up now," he cried dramatically into her hair.

"Oh, get off, you big oaf." Brethany grinned as both her brothers hugged her. "Ergh, not so tight, eh?"

u End of Flashback /u 

So, late Sunday morning, three days before Halloween, her brothers portkeyed out of the Headmaster's office. Their goodbyes were simple, consisting of several shoves, gentle punches, and smirks, all of which caused much bewilderment in those who had come to see them off. The siblings, however, understood the love meant in the careless actions, and enjoyed the chance to baffle those around them. Finally, the two men were gone, and Brethany enjoyed a quiet sigh of homesickness before returning to her senses.

"Back to normal life," she murmured to herself, surprised at the rush of pleasure the thought brought. "I need some vacation if the thought of working is enjoyable," the young woman announced. Dumbledore chuckled.

"It's a good sign, my dear, that you were a born teacher," the old wizard told her with a twinkle in his eye.

Brethany sighed, a sudden thought striking her. "Alright, Albus, since I'm here, and since I know that everyone here knows what I'm talking about, I'm ready to ask that question." The headmaster looked at her expectantly, and she grinned slightly. "How do I become part of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Remus laughed at her, shaking his head. The others, too, had similar reactions, and Brethany found herself overwhelmed with excited members of the Order.

"You've just invited yourself into the madness," Harry told her wryly. "You're about to find out just how exciting my life can be."

"As though I don't know already?" Student and teacher shared amused looks, quite aware of how much they shared due to the Occlumency lessons.

u Flashback /u 

"So, how are we going to do this?" Harry asked quietly, following his teacher through the corridors on the Saturday after first week of classes.

"The headmaster showed me this room that would be just right for us," Brethany told him over her shoulder. "He called it the Room of Requirement." Harry's face brightened in recognition. "This is it." They stopped in front of a blank wall. "Ok, Mr. Potter, let me set it up how I want it, and then we can go in."

Harry watched as the young woman paced back and forth in front of the wall. Brethany, for her part, simply concentrated on what she wanted, hoping that it would work. Finally, a door appeared in the center of the wall.

"Cor," the teenager remarked, "I don't think I've ever seen the door look like that."

The door was indeed unique. It was round, a perfect circle, and was a solid, matte black. The handle was a simple knob, another perfectly circular, black object that was nearly impossible to see against the likewise black background. Brethany beckoned for Harry to enter first.

The room was completely dark, and no light seemed to enter through the open door behind him. Harry lost all sense of balance the instant he stepped in, and it seemed as though he was completely alone, lost in empty space. It wasn't until a hand grasped his elbow that he realized his teacher had followed him through.

"Hey, are you ok?" Brethany's voice came from just behind his shoulder, and he instantly realized that they must be standing upright. "Don't worry, I know it feels weird," she assured him, "but I've just had the Room take away your sense of gravity. You're standing in the middle of an empty room, so don't worry about running into anything."

"So, how exactly are we going to do this," Harry asked again, squinting his eyes to try to see something, anything in the darkness. He tried walking, but discovered that it felt as though he was walking place, not actually going anywhere. When he said as much, Brethany chuckled.

"You aren't going anywhere," she confirmed. "You're not going to be able to physically move anything but your head."

"Ok," Harry said slowly, "How is this supposed to help with Occlumency?"

Brethany laughed. "I designed this for myself, when I was learning. I know it's kind of crazy, but it worked really well for me." She placed her hands on either side of his head.

"Your hands are cold," he complained, restraining the urge to shake his head loose of her grasp.

"Sorry," she spoke glibly, her grin apparent in her voice. "Now stop distracting us. Just listen to what I say, and keep looking into the darkness." Harry sighed, and did as directed. It was rather boring, to say the least.

"Alright, so you are, obviously, standing in complete darkness," Brethany began. "Stop rolling your eyes, Mr. Potter, and i _listen_ /i ." She sighed. "Ok. Close your eyes for a few seconds, then open them again." He did so. "The darkness is still there. Search the darkness, looking for anything, anything at all that you can see."

"There's nothing there," Harry's voice was soft in the darkness.

"There's nothing there but darkness." Brethany's voice became quieter. "There's no one here. I'm not here, you can't hear my voice, and you can't feel my hands on your head." And suddenly, he couldn't. He was completely alone, floating in the darkness, unable to move anything but his head.

"Professor?" The whisper died away in the darkness, as though it had never been spoken. Harry briefly considered panicking, then relaxed. The darkness actually wasn't too bad…it was silent, with no expectations, and there really was nothing there to harm him. It was…comforting. Harry's mind drifted away, free of analyzing any sensory input. There was nothing to think about, there in the darkness. He didn't need to think about anything…

Suddenly, Brethany's hands were back on his head, and the darkness faded into light. The light was everywhere, just as the darkness had been. It was all consuming; it ate away at his very being. As the complete darkness had brought peace, so the complete light brought overwhelming chaos. It was so overwhelming that, where before the darkness had deprived him of the i _need_ /i to think, the light deprived him of the i _capability_ /i to think. Blinking did nothing to diminish the effect of the light, and Brethany's hands on his head kept him from twisting it back and forth in a helpless effort to escape the light. For hours, it seemed, he stayed there in the brightness.

"Look," Brethany's voice spoke softly, barely heard over the chaos of the brightness. " i _Look_ /i ." He looked, and suddenly saw. A tiny, miniscule spot of black appeared far away in the brightness. Instantly, he desperately zoned in on it, only to find it gone again. "Relax. It will come back." Harry struggled to obey, to relax his mind, but the light seemed even brighter than before. The hands against his head pressed harder, and Harry's mind latched onto the physical sensation like a lifeline. He focused on the pressure, on the minute pain it elicited, and felt the chaos of the brightness begin to relent. Off in the distance, the spot of darkness appeared once again.

Harry struggled not to instantly zone in on it. Time and again, the spot of darkness disappeared, and he worked through the process of bringing it back. Finally, he managed to remain focused, his mind barely even recognizing the presence of the light around him any longer. The spot of darkness became his entire world, until it seemed as though it was growing to encompass him once again. For hours, it seemed, he remained almost in a trance, until suddenly Brethany's hands reminded him of her presence.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, I want you to draw back from the darkness." Her hands tightened imperceptibly when he didn't acknowledge her. "Harry, I know that you want to stay in the darkness, but you can't. Part of this lesson is that the light is more a part of you than the darkness is. The light, that bright chaos, is what your mind is like. The overwhelming commotion of your memories, emotions, and expectations are what compose that light. The darkness is the absence of those things, and is what will shield Legilimens from entering your mind. You have to learn how to i _use_ /i the darkness, Harry, not just hide in it. Now come back out of it, slowly…" Gradually, she used her voice to pull him out of the trance, making certain not to jog his concentration as he went.

Harry blinked in sudden shock at suddenly finding himself standing in a bare stone room. His vision wavered as he tried to reorient himself. "Careful, Harry," his teacher laughed from behind him. "You need to get your land legs back." The teenager blinked several times, and suddenly realized that his senses were back…and his legs were asleep.

"Oof!" Harry sat down abruptly, his eyes wide in shocked surprise. "Ow," he spoke absently, staring down at the floor in dazed wonder. "What…what was that?"

Brethany laughed. "That, Harry, was your mind. Tricky little bugger, isn't it?" The teenager chuckled half-heartedly. "Quite the experience, huh?" she asked, seating herself on the cold floor.

"U-huh," the boy replied absently, then looked over at her with wide eyes. "That was my mind?"

"That was one way of i _seeing_ /i your mind," his teacher corrected him. "There's pretty much an infinite number of ways to visualize it, but that way worked really well for me." Harry grunted in agreement. "You seemed to work with it, too." She gave him a small smile. "The darkness is comforting, isn't it?" They shared a long look, understanding each other in a way that most people would not understand.

u End Flashback /u 

Word Count: 2454


	15. Chapter 15

Previously…

i _Brethany sighed, a sudden thought striking her. "Alright, Albus, since I'm here, and since I know that everyone here knows what I'm talking about, I'm ready to ask that question." The headmaster looked at her expectantly, and she grinned slightly. "How do I become part of the Order of the Phoenix?" _

"_I thought you'd never ask," Remus laughed at her, shaking his head. The others, too, had similar reactions, and Brethany found herself overwhelmed with excited members of the Order. _

"_You've just invited yourself into the madness," Harry told her wryly. "You're about to find out just how exciting my life can be."_

"_As though I don't know already?" Student and teacher shared amused looks, quite aware of how much they shared due to the Occlumency lessons._ /i 

And Now…

"Bloody hell," Brethany sighed to herself. "If I'd known it would be all this complicated, I wouldn't have asked." She stared in dismay at the documents on her desk, then looked up at the man standing before her. "Did you have to fill all these out before you joined the order, Severus?"

"Unfortunately, yes," the Potions Master looked decidedly sour. "Albus seems to have the idea that anyone who can fill all of those out without reducing them to ashes must be a 'good person'." Brethany snorted. "And if you desire to join the Order any time soon, you may wish to begin now."

"Urg," Brethany's lip curled as she looked back down at the papers. "I may just decide I'm evil and burn them all."

"As you like," Severus spoke indifferently. "Although, perhaps the Order is in need of some fresh 'evil'."

"With Albus as the head? I think there's plenty of 'evil' there."

"Indeed."

Brethany sighed once again. "I suppose I have to fill it out." She sighed once more. "But do I have to?"

"I will leave you to your whining, Ms. Lewis." Snape moved toward the door, then paused. "For the sake of your sanity, Ms. Lewis, the answer to the question on page 4, section 2 is 'the Siamese cat'." He left before the young woman could question him.

Brethany sat there for a moment, dumbfounded, then began flipping through the pages. "Page 4, section 2… 'What is the phoenix's natural enemy?'" The teacher sat there for a moment, unsure how to react, then began laughing. "Oh, Albus…you are truly awful," she mused to herself, shaking her head. Grinning, she began filling out the paperwork, sometimes blinking in confusion at the various questions, and sometimes growling at how personal the required information was. About half-way through the papers, a welcome interruption appeared.

"Are you busy, Brethany?" Harry's voice brought her head up from the papers.

"Oh, hey, Harry," she grinned at him, happy for the break. "What can I do for ya?"

Harry looked at his teacher with a replying grin. "Sometimes I think teachers have it worse than the students, what with all that extra paperwork." Brethany rolled her eyes, just waiting for the punch line. "That's when I remember that you teachers get i _paid_ /i for that extra paperwork." Said teacher groaned good humouredly.

"Thanks, Harry," she rolled her eyes again. "Actually, I'm not getting paid for this batch of papers, for your information. These are the papers for the Order; I have to fill them out before Albus will bring my application before the rest of the Order."

"Boring and tedious?" the teenager guessed with a grin.

" i _Very_ /i ." Brethany told him of Snape's theory, and he chuckled. "But you didn't come to hear about my paperwork woes. So…what can I do for you?" She folded her hands and propped her feet up on the only bare space on the desk. "Are you having problems with the fan girls? Is some nasty Hufflepuff beating you up at nights? Are you suddenly finding yourself attracted to older women? Any odd dreams that you need interpreting?" It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes.

"You make a terrible shrink, Brethany."

She grinned. "I know."

"Honestly, though," the teenager shook his head. He shoved aside a pile of papers and seated himself in the blank spot. "Do you have any idea how hard it is, being a teenage boy?"

"Hormone rushes, energy spikes, untimely growth spurts, embarrassing awkwardness, bouts of brooding, swollen pride, general cluelessness, and a nearly constant state of foot-in-mouth?" Brethany offered glibly, trying not to laugh at the young man. "Harry, don't you remember how many brothers I have? Also, just in case you haven't realized it, girls go through the same thing…just a little earlier than boys do, that's all." She sat forward, to see him better. "Harry, this wouldn't have anything to do with the upcoming Yule ball, would it?" She took in his sheepish face. "You haven't worked up the courage to ask anyone?" His face showed all.

"Oh, Harry," Brethany couldn't help but laugh. "You're always so bummed out that you've not had a normal life…and now you hate what's normal for a teenage guy to go through?"

He looked sheepish. "Hey, I never claimed I was consistent." His teacher snorted her amusement. "But what do I do? At the last ball, Ron and I took the Patil twins…it didn't turn out so great," he admitted. "Neither of us knew how to dance, and we both liked other girls…" Brethany's eyebrow went up, and he confessed, "We kinda took them as last resorts. All the other girls were taken," the teenage boy mumbled.

"So…you want my help in finding you a date?"

"No! Not…not that." Harry looked vaguely horrified. "I need you to teach me how to dance…." Brethany swallowed a laugh. "Could you? Would you? Please?" The teenager began using his puppy eyes. "Pleeeaaassse?"

"You've been working on the puppy eyes, haven't you," the young woman asked dryly, smothering her grin as Harry added a pout to the picture. "Remus has been teaching you that look, hasn't he?" The teenager laughed. "Ok, so, you need dancing lessons…why me? What makes you think I can teach you how to dance?"

For a moment, Harry looked stumped. "Er…I kinda…just assumed…"

Brethany decided to cut him some slack. "Well, fortunately for you, I do. Unfortunately for you, it's not something I've done a lot of, so we'll need another guy to help demonstrate." She frowned in thought. "I wonder if Professor Snape would help…" A strangled sound of protest caused her to grin. "Fine, fine; I won't ask i _him_ /i . Hm…there's not a lot of options for eligible men here at Hogwarts, is there?"

Over the next hour, they ran through a list of names of the older boys who knew how to dance, and finally narrowed it down to a handful that Harry trusted to be both good dancers and good sports. After a few minutes of thinking, the teenager finally agreed on Neville Longbottom, surprising Brethany. That awkward, easily flustered teenage boy, a good dancer? Maybe she wasn't seeing her students as clearly as she thought. Speaking of which…

"Hey, Harry, what do you have planned for Halloween?" The teenager looked up from his inspection of a book on wands. "Do the Gryffindors have their own party in the dorms?" Brethany hid her grin as a tell-tale flush rose on Harry's neck. "You probably sit around playing checkers, and bobbing for apples, and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey…Gryffindors are such good little lions. I've heard that the Hufflepuffs get up to all kinds of things in their dorms. I've had to confiscate at least ten liters of Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey, not to mention several grams of hallucinogenic powders, from the Hufflepuffs alone. The Ravenclaws are almost as bad," she mused aloud. "They know how to keep the noise of the music from escaping their Common Room. The number of times I've had to crash their parties at two, three in the morning…" Brethany shook her head in mock disapproval. "As for the Slytherins, well, they're entirely too cunning to let any outsiders know what they do down in the dungeons…I should dearly love to find out, though. Slytherins must have the i _most_ /i fun…"

Her musing was cut short when Harry finally figured out she was teasing him, and threw several scrolls at her head. A small scuffle broke out, which resulted in ink being spilt across papers, Harry sporting a bright blue beard, and Brethany with the bill of a duck. When their laughter finally died, papers were smoothed out and cleaned, chairs turned right side up, and the office put back to rights.

"Honestly, though, Halloween would be rather boring if it weren't for the required costumes this year," Harry finally admitted, twirling a quill between his fingers. "Other years, it's just been a feast, although no one complains."

"What are you going as?"

"A Deatheater," the teenager answered glibly, waiting for a reaction. Brethany did not disappoint.

"A i _Death /i -_" the young woman choked with sudden laughter. "If you really do dress up as a Deatheater, you have to make sure I see everyone's reactions."

Harry laughed. "It i _would_ /i be amusing to see the reactions. No, but I'm actually going as a centaur…Luna's going as a unicorn, so we'll sort of be a matching pair." He flushed under the teacher's knowing grin. "She was happy to go with me," the teenager grinned goofily, embarrassed happiness shining in his eyes.

"Told ya so," Brethany laughed.

"Oh, shut up," Harry struggled to glower at her, but couldn't stop smiling.

Word Count: 1443


	16. Chapter 16

Previously…

i _"Honestly, though, Halloween would be rather boring if it weren't for the required costumes this year," Harry finally admitted, twirling a quill between his fingers. "Other years, it's just been a feast, although no one complains."_

"_What are you going as?"_

"_A Deatheater," the teenager answered glibly, waiting for a reaction. Brethany did not disappoint._

"_A iDeath/i-" the young woman choked with sudden laughter. "If you really do dress up as a Deatheater, you have to make sure I see everyone's reactions."_

_Harry laughed. "It iwould/i be amusing to see the reactions. No, but I'm actually going as a centaur…Luna's going as a unicorn, so we'll sort of be a matching pair." He flushed under the teacher's knowing grin. "She was happy to go with me," the teenager grinned goofily, embarrassed happiness shining in his eyes._

"_Told ya so," Brethany laughed._

"_Oh, shut up," Harry struggled to glower at her, but couldn't stop smiling. /i_

And Now…

"Merlin, this is harder than I thought it would be…" Brethany growled at her reflection. "Who would have thought that metamorphmagus abilities were so hard to get right. Red eyes should be nothing!" Sighing, she surveyed the rest of her costume. A long, old-fashioned gown made of raw silk that shimmered blood red in the light and clung in all the right places; she had lengthened her hair and curled it into tight corkscrew curls; thigh-high boots were laced up her legs; and, to complete the look, long white canines glowed against the crimson of her lips. "Finally," she sighed, her latest effort achieving the glowing red eyes she had been going for. "OK, I'm ready. Vampire Brethany is in the building!"

Twenty minutes later, Brethany was in the Great Hall, half an hour before the students were expected. The Hall had been decorated by several of the more enterprising seventh years, and the effect was quite impressive. The ceiling showed a dark, gloomy night interspersed by lightning, and several of the castle ghosts floated among the rafters. The walls were covered in cobwebs and grinning skeletons that waved cheerfully as she walked by. Pumpkins floated above every table, cleverly distorted and carved to look like the various teachers; Brethany cackled loudly when she spotted her own likeness over the Ravenclaw table. Stray suits of armor wandered the Hall, lights glowing faintly within helmets. Torches flickered eerily from the walls and flashes of lightning cast jagged shadows across the Hall. Black and gray shrouds covered the tables, and dribbly black candles hovered over each seat. A thick mist filled the Hall, giving the entire room a creepy air. The students had done a wonderful job indeed.

"Brethany," Minerva McGonagall's voice spoke from the mist, and the DADA teacher watched in amusement as her colleague stepped out of the fog. "What is so amusing?" the Transfiguration professor demanded sharply, raising her nose in the air. Brethany choked on her laughter. The older woman had dressed as the very picture of a muggle's misconception of a witch. Her skin was pale, with a greenish tint, and covered in age blemishes; a large mole adorned the very tip of her nose; a ratty old gray dress flowed to the floor; her hair was styled in a beautifully frizzy gray bob that hung about her face in a truly terrifying fashion.

"It's a fantastic outfit, Minerva," Brethany struggled not to howl with laughter. "Who suggested it, exactly?"

The older witch -!- glared off into the mist. "Poppy helped me put it together, if that is what you are asking." The younger woman gaped at her in surprise, then choked on a laugh. "The idea, however, was given to me by my niece, who is a squib. She thought the outfit suitable, for some reason."

"It's…very…" Brethany gave up. "It's very well done. Thorough, even. You look just like what most children have nightmares about, Minerva. Your niece was right; it's very fitting."

"Fitting?!" 

Brethany fled before she could be verbally flayed. The first person she ran into in the mist was Filius Flitwick, who was quite delighted with her costume. Brethany warned him off Minerva, then continued to see who was there. The students were beginning to filter in, and the varied costumes were quite impressive looking in the eerie lighting. Fairies, elves, historical figures, magical creatures, the occasional muggle superhero, caricatures of Death, and even two boys dressed as Harry Potter himself wandered through the mist. Several students stared in dismay at her costume, then scuttled away, terrified, when she showed off her pretty teeth. She had just frightened several second years out of their wits when she came across a rather impressive centaur.

"Harry!" Brethany grinned widely at her favorite student. "You look very nice, Harry. Well done on the costume." Well done, indeed. The teenage boy had managed to transfigure his entire lower body into that of a small, dappled gray horse, and had lengthened his hair to cover both torso and back. A green blanket was draped over the equine part of him, and his tail was long and black. With the bow and arrows slung over his shoulder, Harry made a quite impressive centaur. "You look quite lovely as well, Luna," the teacher complimented the Ravenclaw girl.

"Thank you, Professor," Luna twirled a long lock of pale blond hair around her finger. The girl was dressed as a unicorn in a long, sparkling white dress that somehow managed the illusion of animal hair. Her feet had been transfigured into horse's hooves, and a slender white horn sprouted from the girl's pale forehead. Coupled with the equine ears peeking from loose white hair, the costume was both quaint and lovely…rather like the girl herself. "You look quite dangerous," the teenage girl added. 

Brethany laughed, flashing her fangs gleefully. "I've been scaring the students horribly…I should likely feel bad about it, but it's rather fun." Harry snorted his amusement. "It's not i_my_/i fault that the rumors never completely died out, is it? Harry, I know, passed on a few rumors about blood-letting during detentions." She gave the young man a mock glare.

"Well, neither is it my fault if the vast majority of the school is highly open to suggestion," Harry retorted, stamping a hoof. "Merlin, these things are hard to control," he muttered to himself, a hand going down in a futile effort to hold the broad leg still. 

"Stop thinking so hard about it," Luna offered. "If you try so hard to control it, the horse part of you will get skittish. Horses can sense fear, you know."

Cocking her head slightly, Brethany regarded the girl. "You know you're right, Miss Lovegood? I've been around horses quite a bit, and they do get skittish around nervous people. You might try that, Harry, it will probably work. Just because you're only half-horse doesn't mean a little horse-savvy won't come in handy."

"'Savvy'?"

"It means knowledge, know-how, understanding, familiarity, experience…savvy." The American grinned at their befuddled expressions. "D' you ken?" Luna smiled mysteriously in answer, but Harry simply rolled his eyes. "Oh, go on, spoil all my fun," Brethany muttered mockingly. "Nobody likes me anymore," she pouted.

"When did we?" Harry teased. "You're the horrible vampire teacher who gives us lots of homework; why would we like you? Now, if you didn't issue homework, and your tests consisted of only two questions, and you automatically gave out Os, we would all love you except for Hermione and the Ravenclaws." Brethany rolled her eyes, then grinned when Luna slapped the teenage boy across the back of the head. "Ow!"

"Stop teasing Professor Lewis," the blond girl spoke seriously. "It's not very clever to deliberately provoke a vampire; she might eat you."

"And not in the good way, either," said vampire murmured quietly, causing Harry to go bright red and choke, and Luna to smile mysteriously, fingers playing with her hair. "What's wrong, Harry? Breathe wrong?" Brethany grinned innocently at the flushed teenager.

"Shut up," he muttered lowly. "That's just…"

"Wrong? I agree entirely. I don't like your blood very much, anyway. It's all bright kindness and sunshine, very heroic and good. It burns on the way down, no matter how good it tastes." The three watched as several eavesdropping students squeaked in horror and darted away into the mist. "I hope they got what they were listening for," Brethany grinned evilly. "My students haven't been properly afraid of me since I taught them how to discern if a person was a vampire. I may have to go over that lesson again," she mused to herself.

"You delight in perpetuating rumors about yourself," Harry shook his head in mock disapproval. His teacher tossed him a 'Yeah? So?' look. "I can't believe the school board hasn't cracked down on you yet…they did when Remus was accused of being a werewolf, after all."

"The difference, Mr. Potter, is that Professor Lewis is not a real vampire, while Lupin is most definitely an accursed werewolf," Snape spoke menacingly from the mist. Both students whirled to face him, wands drawn. "Pathetic," the Potions professor sneered. "If I had been an enemy, you would both be dead at my feet."

"If you had been an enemy, Harry would have sensed your presence several moments ago, Professor Snape," Brethany pointed out levelly, scrutinizing her fellow teacher. "Are you…Merlin, you are!" She laughed gaily. "I love the costume…it's quite fitting." Fitting, indeed. Truth to tell, he looked very nearly as he normally did: harshly cut, long black robes with a high collar, black waistcoat and trousers, black boots, and a long, sweeping black cloak. The style, though, was slightly different. The cloak was of a classic cut, more like an opera cloak, and was lined with gray silk; the black waistcoat was worn over a pearl-gray blouse with a black silk cravat; the robes were obviously of black silk; lastly, his hair was pulled back into an elegant tie, showing off a beautiful widow's peak over a scholar's brow. The wizard's eyes seemed to have an odd sheen, as though the surface of his eyes were unusually reflective, and upon a closer look, his canines appeared to be as long as Brethany's own.

"It's funny how you two dressed alike," Luna mused aloud. "You make quite a daunting couple." The girl drifted off into the mist, pulling Harry with her, before either teacher could break from their shock.

"So…Count Vlad Dracula III?" Brethany asked, trying to ignore the discomfort of the situation.

"Indeed," came the growled answer. "Had I known my outfit of choice was already claimed, I would have sought out another selection." The rebuke was obvious, but Brethany ignored it, having regained her emotional equilibrium.

"Oh, but this is wonderful! We can see who can scare more students!" She grinned up at him, unrepentant for having chosen a similar costume. "I've already perpetuated several rumors, as well as scared dozens of students; you'll have to catch up." 

"Students have been thinking I am a vampire for years, Ms. Lewis," Snape pointed out dryly, "And I have done absolutely nothing to perpetuate such rumors."

"Oh, please. You are the epitome of dark and evil to most teenagers," Brethany scoffed. "To their naïve little minds, you embody the darkest and most horrific of men…ergo, a vampire. Teenagers are nothing if not melodramatic, Snape, and such a dark figure as you are is easy to romanticize. They would cast you as either the betrayed lover or the evil vampire; I think you got the better end of the stick." The young woman grinned at Snape's expression of horror. 

"Oh, but Severus would make i_such_/i a tragic hero," Pomona Sprout appeared out of the mist, a broad grin on her face, obviously having heard the tale end of the conversation. The two women exchanged mischievous looks. "Obviously, he's only so mean to the children because his one true love betrayed him, leaving him destitute at the altar…he has since dedicated his life to teaching children, bent on helping others' offspring in lieu of his own desired, but regretfully impossible, children. He can't help his bad temper; he must suffer through life thinking of his lost lover, able only to dream of a better life than his own." The middle-aged witch sighed dramatically, a dreamy expression on her face, then looked to said tragic hero to see his reaction.

"How in Merlin's name did you come up with such twaddle," the Potions Master demanded in disgust, his face puckered into an expression of distaste.

"Oh, I didn't come up with it, Severus," Pomona told him cheerily.

"Do you mean to say that you've never overheard the sixth and seventh year girls talking about you?" Brethany was honestly surprised, but equally delighted. "There is an entire clique of girls that devotes nearly all its gossip to you…they'll talk for hours-"

"During classes, even," the Herbology teacher chimed in.

"-All about you: who you took points from, and why; whether your lover was from Gryffindor and whether that's why you dislike Gryffindors so much; what your personal quarters look like; whether you're a boxers or briefs kind of man; how you-" Brethany cut herself off when her target stomped off, his face screwed up in horrified anger. "Do you think he believed all that?"

"Undoubtedly." The other woman looked satisfied. "I'm not certain whether we just pricked his pride or inflated it, but either way, it was quite enjoyable." Brethany snorted her amusement, then both women laughed. 

Word Count: 2090


	17. Chapter 17

Previously…

Previously…

_"Oh, but Severus would make __such__ a tragic hero," Pomona Sprout appeared out of the mist, a broad grin on her face, obviously having heard the tale end of the conversation. The two women exchanged mischievous looks. "Obviously, he's only so mean to the children because his one true love betrayed him, leaving him destitute at the altar…he has since dedicated his life to teaching children, bent on helping others' offspring in lieu of his own desired, but regretfully impossible children. He can't help his bad temper; he must suffer through life thinking of his lost lover, able only to dream of a better life than his own." The middle-aged witch sighed dramatically, a dreamy expression on her face, then looked to said tragic hero to see his reaction._

"How in Merlin's name did you come up with such twaddle," the Potions Master demanded in disgust, his face puckered into an expression of distaste.

"Oh, I didn't come up with it, Severus," Pomona told him cheerily.

"Do you mean to say that you've never overheard the sixth and seventh year girls talking about you?" Brethany was honestly surprised, but equally delighted. "There is an entire clique of girls that devotes nearly all their gossip to you…they'll talk for hours-"

"During classes, even," the Herbology teacher chimed in.

"-All about you: who you took points from, and why; whether your lover was from Gryffindor and whether that's why you dislike Gryffindors so much; what your personal quarters look like; whether you're a boxers or briefs kind of man; how you-" Brethany cut herself off when her target stomped off, his face screwed up in horrified anger. "Do you think he believed all that?"

"Undoubtedly." The other woman looked satisfied. "I'm not certain whether we just pricked his pride or inflated it, but either way, it was quite enjoyable." Brethany snorted her amusement, then both women laughed. 

And Now…Still At the Party…

"Brethany, I've been hearing rumors about you and young Mr. Potter…" the younger woman raised an eyebrow in question, and Pomona frowned. "Some of the students are saying that you've been spending altogether too much time together, and your public conversations are…overly familiar."

Brethany frowned deeply. "Of course we are overly familiar with each other, Pomona. I thought you knew that Harry Potter is learning Occlumency from me? That kind of student-teacher relationship always deteriorates to a significantly closer relationship, in spite of any efforts either might put forth. Even the Ministry recognizes the bond between student and teacher in such circumstances. Legally, I could apply for guardianship of Harry Potter and be given it with very few questions asked."

"Hm. No, I didn't know you were teaching him Occlumency." Sprout frowned. "Merlin-be-damned Albus plays everything close to his vest, always has. The staff should have been informed of that as soon as it was decided, as certain duties of guardianship _do_ fall to you. We would have to consult you when any significant issue arises regarding his performance or conduct, since his relatives are muggles."

"Yes." The DADA teacher's voice was decidedly sour. "His relatives are…indescribable. I had…words…with Albus over them. No child should have been placed with anyone in such a manner." She grimaced. "But this is neither the time nor the place for this discussion, and I'm missing out on many of the costumes. Besides, I think Albus is going to make his speech soon." Both women looked to the Head Table, visible above the mist, where Dumbledore was dressed as a canary in bright gold robes and head-dress. "I should kill him for wearing that," Brethany spoke casually. "Unfortunately, I can't get close to him without trying to gouge my own eyes out." Pomona giggled, well used to complaints about the Headmaster's (absent) sense of fashion.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" the speech began, and the two teachers began moving towards their seats. By the time the blessedly short oration was finished, Brethany had seated herself comfortably between Severus Snape and Poppy Pomfrey, who was amazingly without any patients for the evening. Once the hubbub of the feast was begun, she settled herself down to truly enjoy her evening.

Per her request to the house elves, Brethany's entire dinner consisted of a goblet of viscous, dark crimson liquid that stained her mouth rather nicely. Several of the staff took notice and watched avidly as she drank daintily from the goblet, her red eyes flashing with amusement. Brethany was well aware of the eyes following her every movement, and flashed a predatory grin at the watching students. When several squeaks of terror floated up to the table, she couldn't help throwing her head back and cackling evilly.

"Must you try so hard to terrify your students," Poppy asked in amusement, shaking her head when one particular Hufflepuff collapsed into hysterics, kept upright only by dint of her housemates' helping hands. "I don't fancy having a dozen hysterical students in my ward, all suffering from shot nerves."

"It's good for them," the DADA teacher declared. "They've gotten too used to me, and forgotten that nearly every DADA teacher they've had has tried to kill someone. Harry, Mr. Potter hasn't forgotten; the only reason he doesn't pull his wand on me when I startle him is because he can sense my presence, and because I have proven myself to him quite thoroughly."

"Mr. Potter is usually the direct target of those murder attempts," Snape spoke up. "As little as I truly believe his competence, the brat does have strong survival instincts, simply by necessity." There were several snorts of amusement from the other teachers. Harry Potter was a common topic, and all present knew Snape's views on the boy.

Brethany sipped her drink again, delighting in showing her fangs to watching students. "Just wait, Professor Snape; I do believe you'll be surprised by Mr. Potter's performance tomorrow evening." At the others' enquiring glances, she explained, "Harry gets his Occlumency shields tested tomorrow. It will be his first time going against a natural Occlumens." There were several murmurs of dread, mostly involving the likelihood of either Snape or Harry being hexed to death.

"If either you or that boy end up in the hospital wing because you couldn't keep your tempers," the school nurse threatened, "I will hex you both to death myself. Brethany, if you can't keep them from killing each other, I hold you responsible as the only sane adult in the situation." Said sane adult struggled not to laugh.

"Poppy, I assure you, Harry won't attack Professor Snape. First of all, I'm taking both their wands before the process is begun. Second of all, Harry will be Occluding so hard all day tomorrow that he won't have any energy left with which to hex anyone, much less a teacher." Brethany took another sip of her drink and flashed her dripping fangs at the nurse. "Besides, there was no problem last time Snape checked his shields."

"Last time I was merely checking to see that they were actually in existence and correctly formed." Snape sneered. "This time, I will be seeing whether they are fit to hold against an attack. Rather, I will be proving that the brat cannot follow directions to save his own skin."

"Ten galleons says that his shields not only hold, but force you out," Brethany challenged, lifting her chin in defiance.

"I'll take that bet," several voices spoke up from around the table. "I put my gold on Potter," several others of the staff answered in kind. Brethany grinned as the pot was settled upon, and all bets recorded by a smirking Madam Pince, librarian and staff bookie. The DADA teacher had discovered the existence of the staff betting pool soon after arriving, and had been duly amused at the fact that anything and everything was bet on by the group of teachers. Hooch, the flying instructor, was the only one on staff who consistently won the pot, and was notorious for collecting the most money. Brethany was gratified to see that the sharp-eyed woman had bet on Harry.

"Now that that's out of the way," Brethany murmured, "Poppy would you mind greatly if I leered over your neck for a few minutes? The Slytherins are watching me, and I feel like giving them a show." Several chuckles were stifled.

"Leer away," Poppy huffed. "Although why you can't drool over Severus' throat, I don't know." Brethany congratulated herself on keeping a straight face.

"Because he's dressed as Dracula. It's not much good drooling over another vampire's throat; no fresh blood." The young woman let her face hover closer to the other woman's neck. "I like your costume, by the way, Poppy. It's very original." Said 'original' costume was that of a muggle nurse; the little cap on the older woman's head was cocked at a hilarious angle, and the red cross on it was decidedly cheeky with little drops of blood dripping from the four ends. Brethany allowed an expression of hunger to slip onto her face as she dropped her chin to rest on the nurse's shoulder. "Just a bite, Poppy? Please?"

"If you're going to put on a show, I suggest you do so quickly." Brethany glanced up in surprise; she had been joking. The nurse glared down at her. "You're a marvelous actress, Brethany; I'm certain you can make it look good without me needing to hex you." Brethany raised an eyebrow, but got the message. Without further ado, she gently bit down on the offered throat.

"Merlin!"

"Oh, crap!"

"What is she-"

"What in Merlin's name-"

Brethany struggled not to laugh. "You'd better make it look good, Poppy, or they won't believe it," she muttered against the neck. The older woman instantly relaxed in her seat, her head lolling back quite convincingly. "Oh, well done." Brethany kept her mouth there for a few moments longer, then pulled back, licking her fangs gleefully. "You can sit up now, Poppy," she murmured quietly. The other woman straightened back up slowly, seeming almost lethargic in her movements. "Beautifully done, by the way."

Poppy smiled beatifically at the younger woman, her eyes dancing merrily. "I have to find my fun somewhere, dear." She shook her head gently, as though to clear her mind of a fog. "I've never seen a person who has just been bitten by a vampire, so I'm rather unsure how to act…"

"You're doing fine," the Potions Master on Brethany's other side murmured quietly, watching the students' reactions. "Angle your head slightly so Ms. Lewis can caress her 'bite'." Both women cast him small glances of surprise, but obeyed. Brethany trailed two fingers over the other woman's throat, then grinned and stood, intent on having more fun.

"I'm going to wander around the tables," she announced to the general public. "Time to spread fear and chaos, I do believe." The young woman cast a mischievous glance towards the man next to her. "Would you care to join me, Count? I'm sure we could find you a few choice mortal morsels to sate yourself on…" her fangs gleamed eerily in a sudden flash of lightning.

"Do have fun, dear," Poppy waved her off, a smile of amusement playing about her face. "Remember what I said about a ward full of hysterical children." Brethany raised her eyebrows in a mockingly innocent expression. "I don't want it," the school nurse clarified dryly. "If I end up with dozens of students who can't sleep for nightmares, I'm dragging you out of your bed to dose them all."

"No lullabies?" the other woman asked in mock horror.

"I don't coddle my patients." Several incredulous snorts echoed down the table.

"I'll remind you of that, next time I find myself in the hospital wing," Snape spoke sardonically. "As for the other, I believe that I will join you, Ms. Lewis. Someone needs to keep you from trouble." Brethany cast him an incredulous glance. "Or perhaps to keep trouble from you," the man corrected himself dryly.

"That sounds infinitely more likely," Brethany huffed. "As though I actually go _looking_ for trouble! What absolute rot!" But there was laughter in her voice and eyes, and all the other teachers knew that she was teasing Snape. The whole table watched as the two stalked off, both intent on enjoying their unusual hobby of terrifying children. Several of the staff shared pleased looks at the evident closeness of the two 'vampires'.

The two were often found teasing each other, and the needling was growing less and less barbed and more and more outrageous as they grew to know each other. It was unusual for the DADA teacher and Potions Master to actually fight, though they argued constantly. Unbeknownst to the two involved, the rest of the staff had high stakes in the most entertaining betting pool that year, a bet that revolved around Brethany and Severus' relationship. The majority of the teaching staff believed that the two would never have a romantic relationship, but a few of them, along with Poppy, Dumbledore, and Pince, had over fifty galleons apiece placed on the likelihood of a romance springing up. At the end of the school year, whoever won the pot would be able to take a very nice vacation indeed.

Word Count: 1888


	18. Chapter 18

Previously…

Previously…

_Brethany sipped her drink again, delighting in showing her fangs to watching students. "Just wait, Professor Snape; I do believe you'll be surprised by Mr. Potter's performance tomorrow evening." At the others' enquiring glances, she explained, "Harry gets his shields tested tomorrow. It will be his first time going against a natural Occlumens." There were several murmurs of dread, mostly involving the likelihood of either Snape or Harry being hexed to death._

And Now…

"Harold James Potter, get your arse out here this instance!" Brethany yelled in annoyance, her arms crossed across her chest. She was standing outside of the Room of Requirement, tired of waiting for the boy to come out. The Occlumency test would take place in less than an hour, and she had not seen the teenage boy that day at all. "Harry, Snape will be testing you in forty-five minutes! Now is not the time to hide away and panic! You are not to-" she was interrupted when the door swung open, revealing two rather rumpled and flushed teenagers. "Luna. I really might have known." The young woman rolled her eyes. "I hope you have enough time to clear your mind, Harry, or Professor Snape will have some very good material to taunt you about." The teenage boy flushed, but lifted his chin stubbornly.

"Don't," Brethany cut off whatever Harry had been about to say. "I just hope that my confidence in your abilities is not completely misplaced…I stand to lose ten galleons if you're too _distracted_ to concentrate." The teenager in question stared at her. Brethany rolled her eyes. "I bragged about your abilities to the entire staff last night. The house odds are five to three in Snape's favor that you bollix the whole thing up."

"I've heard that the staff betting pool is very large sometimes," Luna spoke up, ignoring the incredulous look on her boyfriend's face.

"Mm," their teacher nodded. "I've been told that the largest betting pot in Hogwarts' history was on the likelihood of Hufflepuff and Slytherin tying for the house cup in '37. It supposedly involved over 2000 galleons. I'm not quite certain, but I think Professor McGonagall was pulling my leg about the amount." She leveled a glare at the two teenagers. "Regardless of past betting pools, however, this test is more important than that." Harry raised an eyebrow, waiting for the catch line. "Harry, my reputation as a teacher and Occlumens is at stake here, not to mention my ten galleons. If you don't knock Snape out of your head some way, not only will I have lost the bet to him, but he will be justified in thinking that you cannot listen and follow directions." Harry straightened, a gleam entering his eyes. "He's been insisting that you have no talent for either Occlumency or Legilimency, and he's constantly degrading your work in Potions. He believes you to be a good-for-nothing laze-about who is presented with whatever you want on a silver platter, and have no need or desire to work. He thinks you-"

"I think that's enough, Brethany," Harry cut in wryly. "I'm well aware of the fact that Snape hates me."

"Oh, he doesn't hate you, Harry," the young woman continued blithely, an odd tone in her voice. "He _despises_ you." She watched his back stiffen further. "In his words, hate denotes some level of respect to the recipient; it requires some effort to hate someone. To despise someone, however, takes very little effort at all, and is easily maintained." Brethany regarded the young man rather sadly. "Oh, well. I hope you spent at least _some_ of today practicing, but it probably won't have helped. Oh, well…" Harry let out a growl, then stomped down the corridor toward the dungeons. Brethany restrained herself until he was out of earshot, then melted into giggles.

"Do you think it worked?" she asked Luna. The teenage girl smiled mysteriously.

"I think that Professor Snape will be in for a bit of a surprise," Luna murmured. The two chatted idly about classes and Harry for a few minutes, then, "You'd best catch up with him."

"Hm. So I'd better. I promised Madam Pomfrey I would take their wands away before the test." She grinned. "I'll follow slowly, though, so he can have a little time to either cool off or work himself into a good rage. Either way, it'll only make him set his mind on succeeding." Brethany missed the knowing glance the Ravenclaw sent after her.

Several minutes later, Brethany was standing outside Snape's classroom, listening idly to the cursing and swearing sounding from within. _Maybe I should go in and break it up_, she thought idly. Both voices shouted at the same time, and something exploded. _Then again, I could just stay out here and enjoy the show in safety._ The room quieted for a moment, then erupted into noise once again. Snape's voice growled deeply, although Brethany was unable to make out the words, and Harry's tenor voice yelled back, interspersed with barely understandable swear words. _Hm. Well, they seem to be getting on well together_, she chuckled to herself. "So long as they don't kill each other, they should have a great relationship," she continued aloud in a thoughtful voice, then rolled her eyes. "Really, Albus, must you continually try to sneak up on me?"

The Headmaster's form shimmered into view, a bemused smile on his face. "I am simply attempting to keep you on your toes, my dear. It would hardly do for our Defense teacher to be unaware of her surroundings."

"That, and you hope to trick me into telling you how I see through your invisibility charms," Brethany added with a grin.

"I am rather curious, yes."

"It would hardly do for the Headmaster of a school to know everything, Albus," the young woman parroted back gleefully. "You should make sure your students know that there is always something left to learn." A crash from within the room made her wince. "Well, they're still going hard. It reassures me that Harry can hold his own for so long." Snape's voice was heard swearing creatively. "Perhaps more than simply holding his own," Brethany amended. "Snape must be holding back some. It shouldn't be too long before Harry makes him lose his temper." Almost as though brought to reality by her words, Harry yelled something, and Snape was heard to shout in anger. Moments later, both Brethany and Dumbledore felt the burning sensation of Dark Magic being performed. "Ouch," the DADA professor winced. "I don't know what Harry did, but he's managed to tick Severus off quite well."

For several more minutes, crashes, bangs, explosions, and thumps shook the door to the classroom. Yelps, shouts, growls, and the occasional screech sounded from within, and the two listeners had difficulty stifling their laughter at the undignified noises. Eventually, the room quieted down after one last indignant shout from Harry. Brethany and Dumbledore exchanged bemused glances, then quickly entered the room. The DADA teacher stared in shock at the state of the classroom.

"Good Merlin! It looks like a tornado came through!"

It did indeed. The desks and chairs had been completely obliterated, and splinters of wood covered the floor. The area for making the potions was likewise nearly destroyed, and a few twisted, misshapen cauldrons rested to the side of the room. Splashes of magic glowed from the floor, ceiling, and walls, bearing witness to misdirected hexes and curses. In several spots, a black ooze stained the floor and walls where two or more curses had collided and then spun out of control. Most incredible, though, were the two men themselves.

Harry was lying on his back, green eyes staring blearily up at the ceiling, his mouth lax. Although at first glance he appeared simply covered in blood, it all seemed to have come from a small cut above his eye. He lay flat on the floor, his breath still coming in sharp gasps; his entire body shook in the wreckage that surrounded him. Brethany eyed him for a moment in mild concern, then turned to look at Snape. The Potions Professor was propped against the wall, his arms limp at his sides, and his eyes were just as bleary as Harry's. Although there was no obvious blood, a shiny patch of burnt skin covered half his left cheek, and his teeth protruded from his mouth like a beaver's. Neither man's wand was in sight.

"Well, Poppy's going to kill me," Brethany remarked idly. "I didn't think they would actually kill each other; obviously, I underestimated them." At the sound of her voice, both men stirred. Brethany and Dumbledore exchanged understanding glances, and immediately split up.

"Well, Harry, did you have fun?" The teenage boy blinked up stupidly at Brethany's face. "You look quite knackered; it must have been a _lot_ of fun." She began to help him sit up, but at his groan of pain, she hesitated. "Do I _want_ to know what all you've been hit with?" Despite her seeming reluctance, she began casting a diagnostic spell.

"I gave as good as I got," Harry groaned out, squinting upward. "Snape, bastard that he is, cheated to end it." Brethany looked over to where the Headmaster was tending to the Potions Master.

"Brat," the dark man managed to sputter out, before his head lolled back on Dumbledore's shoulder. Brethany stifled a laugh.

"H-he looks like his bones have been vanished…" she stuttered to a stop. "His bones have been vanished?"

"One leg and both his arms," Dumbledore confirmed. "How is young Mr. Potter?"

"Well, none of his bones were vanished, but he can't move his left arm, his right wrist is broken, he has a concussion and two cracked ribs, he's covered with blood, has hair growing out of places I don't even want to _think_ about, and his magical core is rather depleted. Oh, and he's growing scales all over his skin. They're snake scales, Red Egyptian Moss snake, I believe. Very Gryffindor colors." Brethany grinned at the teenager's groan.

"Hm, well, Severus seems to be suffering from a mild concussion as well, various bruises, missing bones, overgrown teeth, several cuts across his chest, a fractured collarbone, a nasty burn on his face, and a rather bad case of constipation." Dumbledore's voice was quite cheerful. "Harry, my boy, you've done a wonderful job at mastering the burning hex, but you might learn to put a bit more power into it. Professor Snape needs some practice dodging, it seems." Brethany stifled a laugh at the groan from both men.

"Time for a trip to the infirmary, boys," the Headmaster beamed. "Severus needs Skele-grow, and you, Mr. Potter, may wish to be rid of all that hair." Both teachers looked down at the teenager in amusement. The curse, whatever it had been, was continuing to sprout up bushy patches of hair all over Harry's body in random patterns. The only place the hair had not appeared was his face, and that was still covered in blood. "You should both be put to rights by morning, especially you, Severus. You have a trip tomorrow night, I believe."

Brethany scanned the destroyed room. "Where in Merlin's name are your wands?" Snape growled and indicated both wands in his limp hands. Brethany struggled not to laugh. "Smashing. Now I won't have to search through all this trash."

They then went about taking the two men to the school nurse. "You do know that Poppy's going to kill me, correct?" Brethany asked casually, levitating Harry up into the air.

"Of course, my dear," the old man twinkled, hovering Snape beside him. Brethany rolled her eyes, then followed his lead through the door, Harry floating behind her.

"So tell me, Harry," the DADA teacher began a conversation, "Did Professor Snape test your mental shields, or did you two just jump straight to insults and hexes?" Beside her, Harry managed a small grin.

"I threw him out," he grunted proudly, his smile twisting into a grimace as he spoke. "You didn't lose your ten galleons." Brethany laughed.

"I knew you would, Harry." She grinned. "So, what started your duel?" The young woman watched as his ears flushed. "He nailed you on the snogging, didn't he?" she asked knowingly. "I told you he would be able to tell." Harry glared blearily at her, then growled halfheartedly. Brethany only laughed. "Served you right." The teenager pointedly ignored her the rest of the way to the infirmary.

Word Count: 2014


	19. Chapter 19

**A.N. Hey to all my reviewers! Thanks so much! You guys are very encouraging, and you make me want to write more. Unfortunately, my muse does not always inspire me to write a story in chronological order...I have the chapters containing the Christmas hols, but not the ones containing the intermediate times...Hopefully, I will write those chapters quickly, but it may or may not happen. I have finals in two weeks, so don't expect too much for about a month. Anyways, thanks again for reading.**

Previously…

i _"So tell me, Harry," the DADA teacher began a conversation, "Did Professor Snape test your mental shields, or did you two just jump straight to insults and hexes?" Beside her, Harry managed a small grin. _

"_I threw him out," he grunted proudly, his smile twisting into a grimace as he spoke. "You didn't lose your ten galleons." Brethany laughed. _

"_I knew you would, Harry." She grinned. "So, what started your duel?" The young woman watched as his ears flushed. "He nailed you on the snogging, didn't he?" she asked knowingly. "I told you he would be able to tell." Harry glared blearily at her, then growled halfheartedly. Brethany only laughed. "Served you right." The teenager pointedly ignored her the rest of the way to the infirmary_./i

And Now…

"Good morning, sunshine!" Brethany sang happily, a sadistic note of pleasure in her voice. Severus Snape cracked open a single eye, took one bleary look at her, then groaned and rolled to his other side.

"If this is punishment for past sins, I must contest this treatment. No sin deserves this sort of punishment." He hauled the infirmary blanket over his head.

Brethany smirked. "Not a good idea, Snape," she told him in a sing-song voice.

"What in Merlin's name are you blathering ab-" Snape's muffled question erupted into a screech of dismay. Grinning widely, the other teacher bounced off to Harry's bed as the Potions Master jerked upright, soaked in freezing cold water.

Harry was already awake, having been aroused by the noise. The teenager took one look at the shivering man in the next bed, Brethany's mad smile, and the wand in her hand, then immediately began to look as awake as possible.

"Awake, then, Harry?" his DADA teacher asked him, something akin to disappointment in her voice. Harry nodded vigorously, and quickly put his glasses on. "How are you feeling? Fully recovered?"

"I'm still rather sore," the young man admitted, stretching his arms experimentally and wincing. "At least I can move my arm, now; and my wrist is fully healed, too." He paused. "How's Snape? I mean, Professor Snape? Skele-grow is a bit nasty…"

"I don't need your pity, Potter," Snape growled, pulling the sopping blanket off his head. Brethany and Harry burst out laughing at the sight he made.

Mussed black hair had plastered to the pale face, and the thin, wet hospital gown was nearly transparent against the man's chest. Although most of the cuts and bruises had been healed, Snape still had the shiny remains of a burn on his left cheek, and sleep lines etched into the other. His dark eyes were still sleep-blurred, and the soft lines of exhaustion around his mouth almost made him look…dare it be said…childlike.

"Aw," Brethany cooed, happily taking her revenge for the previous night, "Look at him…he's so cute when he's sleepy."

"Shut…up…woman."

"Well, good morning, you three," Poppy greeted them cheerily as she entered the infirmary. "Are you bothering my patients, Brethany?"

"Yes." "No." both teachers answered at once. The two entered a brief glaring contest.

Brethany grinned sweetly at Snape. "I'm not bothering you, am I, Severus?" The Potions teacher shivered, then crossed his arms and glared harder.

"You poured cold water all over me. Of course you're bothering me. You bother me on the best of days, when I do not even see you, much less interact with you!" This last was spoken at a yell, black eyes flashing in heated aggravation.

"Ooh." An expression of admiration flashed across Brethany's face. "You must admit, Severus, that does take talent on my part. How many people can claim to getting under your skin that thoroughly?"

Snape stared at the young woman for a long moment. "Up to this date, only Potter, the Dark Lord, and the Headmaster." Brethany grinned, not at all surprised by the admission. The man rolled his eyes and turned to the nurse. "Poppy, get this madwoman away from me," he all but pleaded.

"Sorry, Severus," Brethany spoke cheerily. "You must have forgotten; you and I are visiting the vampire colony today."

"Not until tonight," Snape growled. "You specifically told me we would not be leaving until tonight."

The DADA teacher raised an eyebrow. "We might not be leaving until tonight, but we have to go over all the plans for the December trip with Albus. Also, I have to teach you Vampire Etiquette 101." The man looked at her in horror. "We're stuck together for the next three days; you don't have any classes to teach today, remember?" Snape groaned, letting his head fall forward to the blanket in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. "I'll see you in Albus' office in an hour, Severus. Don't be late." Brethany waved cheerily as she left the hospital wing.

"I…hate…that…woman," Severus growled half-heartedly.

Harry grinned. "I'm sure she loves you, too, Professor."

--

Brethany looked up with a grin when Snape swept into the Headmaster's office.

"Good morning, Severus!" Albus twinkled at the glowering man. "You seem much improved from last night, my boy." The Potions teacher all but growled.

"Now, now, Severus," Brethany said cheerfully, "No need for all that. Why, you'll scare the vampires tonight, if they hear you growling like that." She stifled a laugh when the man growled louder. "Aw, Severus, did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" the young woman needled shamelessly.

"i_You/i_…" Snape's eyes blazed, and his hand actually went to his wand.

"Oh, do go ahead, Snape," the DADA teacher smirked. "I know you want to yell at me. After all, I i_did/i_ wake you up in a most uncomfortable manner…did I mention how cute you are when you've just woken?" That last broke Snape's control, just as Brethany had known it would.

"Insufferable… aggravating… unbearable… addlepated… frustrating… provoking… cattish… blabbering… empty-headed… mind-bogglingly infuriating… blathering… maddening… senseless… dull-minded…"

Brethany sat back, allowing the furious rant to wash over her. Occasionally, she glanced over at Dumbledore, exchanged a quick smile, then looked back to the sputtering Potions Master. The rant lasted several minutes, then suddenly cut off with a wordless growl.

"You…are…infuriating."

Brethany's eyes flared with amusement. "I've often been told as much." Snape stalked to a chair and flung himself down with a growl. "Careful, Severus, or I'll mistake you for a moody teenager." Snape crossed his arms and glowered. "Which isn't too different from a moody adult," Brethany murmured to herself, causing the Headmaster to cover a chuckle. "Ok, I guess I'm playing the adult in this conversation," the young woman rolled her eyes. Snape turned his head away, obviously having used up his repertoire of insults during his rant.

"Well, now that we are all calm," Albus took charge before the meeting could degenerate further, "Brethany, would you please share your itinerary for the weekend?" The young woman sobered slightly.

"Well, first of all, we won't be meeting Pierre de Sordante himself until tomorrow evening," the DADA teacher spoke with some annoyance, speaking of the Master of the vampire colony. "My correspondence with him, while largely satisfactory, has led me to believe that our visit this weekend will be rather more problematic than the trip after Christmas."

Snape looked up at this. "They will not accept two adults into the colony, but will accept thirty obnoxious children? The Vampiric race must be badly off to prefer schoolchildren to the more powerful and matured."

Brethany had to laugh. "Yes, well, at this point, Pierre has recognized the drawbacks to this fieldtrip. The political rapport he will gain with the Ministry after the actual event makes it worth the trouble, but this initial contact is little more than an annoyance."

"Is there cause for concern?"

The young woman instantly shook her head. "Certainly not. I foresee only having to deal with some surliness and unfriendliness," she assured them. "I brought this up because I thought you should know, Albus, that we won't be able to contact you over the weekend. The colony isn't willing to drop their wards to permit communication. No owl will be permitted inside the colony; the floo system may or may not be available to us, and if it is, will be monitored."

"So, any correspondence with the outside world which we may be permitted will be observed?" Severus' dark eyes glittered. The two men digested this information in silence. Then,

"Is it dangerous?" the Headmaster finally asked, the twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly.

"No," Brethany replied, hastening to reassure them. "We are in no active danger from the colony."

"What of passive danger?" Snape demanded. "Will we be delivered into the Dark Lord's hands?" He scowled when the young woman hesitated.

"Pierre will not permit his vampires to betray us," Brethany hastily inserted. "Not all the vampires within the colony have pledged themselves to him, though. In December, all the residents will be bound by blood to leave the visiting students and adults alone. However, Pierre cannot afford to do that twice in such a short time period."

She surveyed their sour expressions. "Look, I truly believe that we are in no danger there. I just wanted to make sure you both understood what we're going into. Vampires are very self-serving; unless it is truly to their long-term benefit, none of them will be attacking us in any way."

"Your words are so reassuring," Snape sneered. Brethany rolled her eyes.

"If we are kidnapped or killed, you can say 'I told you so' as much as you like, Severus. Until then: please, just shut up." Ignoring the other teacher for the moment, Brethany continued laying out the plans for the weekend.

Word Count: 1474


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note: Hello, readers. First, I must apologise for taking so long to update. My muse has been in a coma because of an overdose of classes and finals. Due to this setback, I have been working all on my own creativity, which means 0 updates. Ladies and gentlemen, that has now changed! Expect more timely updates over the next month or so, until school looms close once again...  
In this chapter, please forgive any mistakes in my French...all phrases come from my limited high school French vocab and my grandmother's French invectives. The Gaelic words I filched from internet vocab lists...  
On to the story!

Previously…

i_"Pierre will not permit his vampires to betray us," Brethany hastily inserted. "Not all the vampires within the colony have pledged themselves to him, though. In December, all the residents will be bound by blood to leave the visiting students and adults alone. However, Pierre cannot afford to do that twice in such a short time period."_

_She surveyed their sour expressions. "Look, I truly believe that we are in no danger there. I just wanted to make sure you both understood what we're going into. Vampires are very self-serving; unless it is truly to their long-term benefit, none of them will be attacking us in any way."_

"_Your words are so reassuring," Snape sneered. Brethany rolled her eyes._

"_If we are kidnapped or killed, you can say 'I told you so' as much as you like, Severus. Until then: please, just shut up." Ignoring the other teacher for the moment, Brethany continued laying out the plans for the weekend._/i

And Now…Back at the Ranch…

"Why are we taking a portkey, again?" Brethany griped to Dumbledore, glancing from the ping-pong paddle in his hand to Severus, who was likewise looking with distaste at the item. "Couldn't we simply apparate to just before the colony's wards? It's not so far."

"I would rather be certain that you survive the trip," the Headmaster spoke with surprising dryness. "If you do not land safely, the portkey will instantly bring you back here. Also, the portkey can be activated from within the colony's wards; if there is a need, you can return here at any time."

The DADA teacher nodded in instant understanding. "Paranoid bunch, aren't we? Ah, well, you know what they say about people like us." Severus raised an eyebrow. "Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get me," Brethany clarified. "Muggle saying; very true. My father lives by it, and so passed it on to his children. Some might say paranoia is a genetic trait in our family." She grinned. "Mum would say it's a lifestyle."

"We have no interest in your family's lifestyle," Snape drawled contemptuously. "I would suggest we leave now. Night is approaching swiftly."

"Night approaches swiftly on wings of darkness; Dawn heralds her coming with crimson and purple song. So heed the cry of quickening shadows: beware the darkness of a wounded Night. Scorned, betrayed by the Sun's bright rays, she thrusts spears of shadow to that sphere's light heart. Mourn Apollo's death in the dearth of light; his eclipse comes quickly with approaching Night," Brethany quoted whimsically, then smiled at the curious looks. "Morgana's i_War of Darkness/i_, one of the few wizarding works I cared to memorize as a child. It's so delightfully macabre." Snape rolled his eyes, then froze as he realized the action.

"And now that we have had our little lesson in literature," he said sarcastically, "perhaps we could be on our way?" Brethany grinned, but stretched out her hand to touch the portkey.

"We'll contact you as soon as possible," she told the headmaster. "Expect to see us Sunday evening at nine o' clock."

Moments later, the two teachers were whirling down into existence just outside the vampire colony. Brethany looked around in interest; it had been some years since she had visited such a place. "Looks just as gothic as it ever did," she remarked nonchalantly, watching as dim shadows detached from the darkness. "We might as well make ourselves known. The guards are already moving in." Severus cast her a curious look, but she only grinned, then pulled out the ceremonial dagger to cut her palm and drip her blood onto the ground before them.

"By blood I call ye," Brethany quoted softly, eyeing the shadows surrounding them, "By blood ye ken. My blood hast bound me; so I enter in." Small red sparks of magic jumped from each drop of blood, then flared together into a small Celtic knot and died away.

"i_Gormlaith/i_, you are welcome here," a shadow coalesced into a distinct figure. Brethany bent her head in acknowledgement.

"Severus," she quietly directed. Her colleague repeated the short ritual, and was likewise greeted with,

"i_Dubhgall/i_, you are welcome here." The surrounding shadows became solid, and a half dozen figures stepped into existence. Brethany smirked slightly as one vampire stepped forward.

"Braidhen, you look well," she greeted him gravely. The vampire, tall, blond, and formidable, gave a shallow bow in acknowledgement.

"As do you, child," Braidhen took her outstretched hand in his own and kissed it. "Lovelier every day, Brethany," he grinned charmingly, then sobered. "You and your companion are welcome here, by order of Master de Sordante; as such you fall under his protection for as long as you comport yourselves as worthy guests. The gift of your blood to the wards permits you entrance here until your visit is complete; after, however, you will be strangers here once more. Bear in mind your status, as well as your mortality, in the presence of the strength of vampires and their Chosen." Severus bristled at the vampire's warning, but Brethany's warning grip halted any speech.

"We will endeavor to do so, Braidhen, Enforcer of the Northern Colony. We thank you and your master for permitting us within your wards," Brethany spoke the required niceties in a respectful voice, keeping her face and eyes expressionless. Braidhen bowed slightly, then led the way towards the colony.

The colony was a self-contained town, filled with shops and pubs, manors and cottages, theaters and brothels, a single inn and the Master's mansion in the center of town. Streets were well lit in the night by balls of light hovering high in the air every ten meters; Brethany murmured to Severus that the balls of magic would become dark lamps during the day, casting shadows over the street for the safety of any vampire wandering the streets during daylight hours. Snape surreptitiously watched the population move about in what he saw as a lifeless parody of a normal town, his black eyes noting the casual use of wandless magic of the residents, as well as the watchful stances of the bystanders as he and his companion passed.

"They are a remarkably friendly bunch, aren't they," he murmured sarcastically. Brethany gave him a brittle smile.

"Hm. With highly sensitive hearing, as well," she answered pleasantly, not even trying to lower her voice. Severus understood the not-so-subtle hint, and remained silent for the rest of the walk.

When they entered the Master's mansion, smaller orbs than those employed outdoors lit the hallways, hovering in the corners toward the high ceilings. Brethany seemed to become more and more relaxed as they drew nearer to their destination, and Severus took his cue from her demeanor. For herself, the DADA teacher truly was becoming more comfortable the longer they remained within the colony without being attacked. Although she had received promises of safety from both the Master and Braidhen, his second-in-command, the possibility of some isolationist or anti-mortal vampire endeavoring to rid the world of one more unprotected food source was quite high. Now that they had reached the Master's residence, however, the chances of that actually happening were drastically lowered, a fact for which she was quite relieved; Severus would have killed her if he'd been proven correct about their safety.

"Please wait here," Braidhen beckoned them into a sitting room, then slipped out. DADA teacher and Potions Master exchanged glances, then looked about the room.

"We are in Ireland?" Severus questioned his colleague, gesturing to the Celtic runes evident throughout the room. Brethany grinned.

"I'm sure you noticed Braidhen's titles for us? 'i_Gormlaith/i _and 'i_Dubhgall/i_'? It's Gaelic," the young woman chuckled. "i_Gormlaith/i_ means 'excellent lady' and i_Dubhgall/i_ means 'dark stranger'." Brethany laughed at the disdainful look on his face. "They certainly got it in one, didn't they? As for where we are…well, from what I've been given to understand, we're somewhere just south of Ballymoney, County Antrim, in North Ireland. We're about two hundred, two hundred-fifty miles b**(about 350 km)/b **from Hogwarts."1

"If the colony is in Ireland," the 'dark stranger' asked suspiciously, "Why is the Master a French vampire?"

Brethany rolled her eyes slightly. "Because, even though I don't especially like the man, he is extremely powerful in Magical Creature circles. He is well known as being extremely knowledgeable about arcane rituals, which makes him extremely valuable to the pureblood, tradition-entrenched, wizarding faction. Outside of those reasons, he was chosen as the Master of this colony because he is magically powerful, almost ridiculously so, and highly capable of providing protection to the vampires who swear loyalty to him."

"Ah, you flatter me, i_m'amie/i_," a tall, dark-haired man practically floated through the door. Brethany turned to face him with a look of disgusted amusement. "Oh, do not look at me so,i _jeune femme/i_."2

Brethany raised an eyebrow. "Only my mother refers to me in such a manner, Pierre. Perhaps you remember her? i_Petite dame/i_ who slapped your lily-white skin eleven years ago in this same colony?" Beside her, Snape cast her a shocked stare, then quickly schooled his face to bored interest. "Of course, you did proposition her in the presence of her husband and children." A small grin played about the DADA teacher's mouth. "My father thought the incident to be quite amusing. He still tells the story among his auror friends. My mother is quite respected among them now."3

The dark vampire laughed lightly. "Ah, but she was a i_petite joli/i_," he sighed. "And such fire!" His dark eyes practically glowed with amusement. "I can see she passed it on to her daughter, as well," Pierre de Sordante chuckled, his eyes raking up and down Brethany's body.4

"Hm. Most likely," she agreed simply. "I believe I am just as capable of slapping your face as she was." Woman and vampire stared each other in the face, neither batting an eye. "Of course, I also know that you are completely capable of killing me before I can get close enough to strike you," Brethany added conversationally, "And that you neglected to kill my mother merely because she was a small, beautiful woman who had managed to catch your interest. If my father had made a move to intervene, he would have been quickly dispatched."

"Your father was a wise man," Pierre spoke just as conversationally, "And thus, he did not interfere. I trust that you inherited his wisdom as well as your mother's beauty?"

"I hope so," she answered simply. They stared at one another for a long moment, then Brethany inclined her head slightly. "I thank you for accepting our presence here, Master de Sordante. I bring you gifts with which to show our gratitude." She brought a shrunken bag from her pocket and cast the charm to enlarge it. "One vial of Albus Dumbledore's blood, in order to renew the pledge of peace he made with the former Master of the Northern Clan," it was taken with some reverence, "One vial of crystallized phoenix tears, to be used as you desire, so long as the Ministry does not track it back to us," this was taken with the care used when handling a ticking bomb.

"And my own gift," Brethany grinned slightly, pulling forth a long, slender wooden box, cradling it in both her palms. The vampire Master took it with a raised eyebrow, then slowly opened it. His head jerked up as he stared at her in surprise. "Yes, a wand," the young woman confirmed. "I crafted it myself. The handle is formed of ash, and the shaft of rowan; the core is a crushed dragon scale; the reservoir stone is a rounded piece of sky-blue turquoise. A lovely wand, if I do say so myself; the white woods and blue stone look perfect together. And, oh, dear, I've forgotten to add the usual tracking charms the Ministry requires on wands meant for Magical Creatures." She grinned unrepentantly. "Well, I daren't tamper with the wand now; it might upset the balance."

De Sordante raised a dark eyebrow. "It is good work," he complimented, blue eyes examining the wand with interest. "Why ash and rowan, precisely? It is a rare combination, is it not, especially for a wand intended for a member of the undead?"

Brethany grinned, eager to share her knowledge of wand-lore. "Rowan is the wood of life, strongly connected to the earth and subsequently the lay lines; it is strongly linked to the organization of nature. Ash is the wood of beginnings and change, strongly connected to the element of water and subsequently springs and rivers; it is also strongly linked with both the balance and natural chaos of water. Normally, the two would never mix very well, but they were quite compatible in this wand, if only because I used a turquoise stone for a reservoir. The turquoise is itself a natural bridge for the two woods, reputed to aid in astral travel, although I've yet to experience that myself, and is a stone of knowledge and intuition, as well as handy for spells involving water or air. From pommel to point, you have a bridge to ease travel of all kinds, then a wellspring of chaos, and finally a strong resting place of peace, a pattern which follows your way of thinking rather well. You may have noticed the Latin figures I carved along the shaft…"

"Ordo ab chao," the vampire read aloud, amusement apparent on his face. "Fitting."

"Quite," Brethany grinned. "Anyway, the wand was designed to precipitate ease and power in rituals and the use of lay lines in pentagrams and ritual circles; the dragon scale as part of the core enhances that aspect quite powerfully. Also, the duality of the chaos and order of the wand works well with the duality of the Vampiric existence: dead, yet perpetually living." De Sordante cast her an appreciative glance. "I am aware that you have a wand already, but I believe you will find this one to be rather more fitting, if only because it was custom made for your current existence."

"My 'current existence'?" the Master raised an eyebrow at her. The wandmaker grinned.

"I've seen your current wand; it's ancient. Likely very powerful, but still ancient. You have changed since that wand chose you; your magic has changed since that wand chose you. And don't pretend you're not horribly pleased with the gift; you know you like it." The vampire Master chuckled in answer, caressing the length of the wand with a fingertip. Blue eyes rose to meet Brethany's.

"It is a good gift, masterfully created, and masterfully presented." He shut the wand box and slid it into his robe. Brethany poked at Snape, and the Potions Master stepped forward.

"My gift to you is a potion, one dose designed to make a single vampire impervious to the rays of the sun for a single day." He extended the tiny crystal bottle to the Master, its swirling colors of red and orange reminiscent of fire, or possibly a phoenix. An eyebrow was once again raised, and blue eyes gleamed in pleasure as the old vampire accepted the bottle.

"A good gift, indeed," Braidhen murmured from behind Brethany. She could not help but agree. The potion was an extraordinarily difficult one, and leaned rather towards the illegal considering it required fresh unicorn's blood, as well as the ash of a reborn phoenix, both of which were notoriously powerful and rare ingredients. Many vampires, especially the old ones, would commit wholesale slaughter to be able to see the sun once more.

Pierre bowed to the visitors. "I am pleased with your gifts; you are both welcome here and will be treated with utmost care and kindness." The two teachers returned the bow. "I wish you a pleasant visit; I will speak with you at length tomorrow evening." His eyes suddenly flared red. "However, should you or your companion make it necessary for me to see your faces before that designated time, you will quickly learn to regret it i_m' amie/i_." With that simple, yet highly effective warning, he swept from the room.

Brethany breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. "Well, that went well. He was surprisingly mellow tonight." She cast a questioning glance to the Enforcer. "Braidhen, was it just me, or was Pierre acting…giddy?" Severus' eyebrows went up in disbelief, but the blond beside him only chuckled.

"His mate recently returned to him," the Celtic vampire explained simply. Brethany laughed in understanding.

"Ah…so he's getting some." She spoke blithely. They both ignored Snape's growing frustration with ease. "I really should have guessed." The two exchanged amused smiles.

Word Count: 2618

1 Assuming that Hogwarts is, as spoken in movie version PoA, not far from Dufftown in the Moray council area of Scotland

2 French. i_M' amie/i_: my (female)friend. i_Jeune femme/i_: lit., young lady.

3 i_Petite dame/i_: the little woman

4 i_Petite joli/i_: pretty girl


	21. Chapter 21

Previously…

Previously…

i_Pierre bowed to the visitors. "I am pleased with your gifts; you are both welcome here and will be treated with utmost care and kindness." The two teachers returned the bow. "I wish you a pleasant visit; I will speak with you at length tomorrow evening." His eyes suddenly flared red. "However, should you or your companion make it necessary for me to see your faces before that designated time, you will quickly learn to regret it u__m' amie__/u." With that simple, yet highly effective warning, he swept from the room._

_Brethany breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. "Well, that went well. He was surprisingly mellow tonight." She cast a questioning glance to the Enforcer. "Braidhen, was it just me, or was Pierre acting…giddy?" Severus' eyebrows went up in disbelief, but the blond beside him only chuckled._

"_His mate recently returned to him," the Celtic vampire explained simply. Brethany laughed in understanding._

"_Ah…so he's getting some." She spoke blithely. They both ignored Snape's growing frustration with ease. "I really should have guessed." The two exchanged amused smiles._/i

And Now…

"You are ready?" the Headmaster asked the DADA teacher. The two were in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, awaiting an Order meeting.

Brethany breathed in deeply, closing her eyes for a moment in order to calm her thoughts. "Yes," she responded quietly, opening her eyes to look at Dumbledore. The old man nodded, his eyes twinkling.

"Then I will go inform the rest of the Order. When we are ready for you, Severus will fetch you." And with that, Brethany was left alone in the room to stare blankly at the wall.

"New Order member, eh?" a young man poked his head into the kitchen. Brethany grinned at the sight of familiar red hair. Another Weasley, obviously.

"I'm George," the young man introduced himself, reaching for a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"And I'm Fred," another boy popped in, immediately rummaging through the ice box. "I'm the smart one; he's the pretty one," he gestured. His brother nodded in agreement.

Brethany surveyed the identical young men with a grin. "It's good you each find your place so easily. Tell me, how often do you switch places with each other?" She watched with interest as the twins exchanged grins and moved to stand next to each other.

"You must be that teacher Ginny keeps talking about," one of them, possibly Fred, waved a cup of juice at her. "Lewis, wasn't it?"

Said teacher grinned. "Only if whatever she had to say was good." The two young men grinned widely. "And you must be the Weasley twins I've heard so much about. You two are, what, eighteen? And already running your own shop, aren't you? Harry's shown me some of your stuff. Brilliant stuff, too."

"A teacher likes our prank stuff?" They were delighted. "Gred, my man," the twin on the left slung his arm over his brother's shoulder. "Yes, Forge?" the other answered, mirroring the gesture. "We have ourselves here a real, genuine, trouble-maker," one informed the other. "Well, we should definitely assist the lady, don't you think, Forge?" They grinned at each other. "Definitely, Gred." They shook hands in agreement, then turned to the laughing young woman.

"You two are almost as bad as my brothers, the twins in my family," she informed them, then sobered. "Are you two in the Order?"

They exchanged glances, then shook their heads. "We're being inducted tonight, along with you, I would guess." Brethany grinned, but was interrupted before she could reply.

"Ms. Lewis, Messrs. Weasley," Snape stood glowering in the doorway, his dark eyes stern. "The Order is ready for you, if you are quite finishing with your chat?" Brethany nodded, tossed a quick smile to the two boys, then followed the Potions Master through the door, the Weasley twins striding behind.

They were led into a large drawing room that had been fashioned into a sort of war room, with maps of Great Britain hung about on the walls and pictures of known Death Eaters laying about along with written reports, some dark artifacts, as well as a Sneakoscope and a Foe Glass laid rather conspicuously on the large center table. The DADA teacher gave the items a wry grin of amusement.

"Think those are funny, do you?" a gruff voice growled from behind them. Brethany turned to see the famed figure of Alastor Moody, Wizarding Britain's best known Auror, eyeballing her intently. "Those things have helped catch many a dark witch or wizard, you know." He glared at her suspiciously, as though expecting her approach to set the items off.

"Really?" Brethany sneered slightly. "I assume you mean they detect a person who's 'gone dark', rather than a person who uses Dark Magic?" Moody stared at her oddly, his magical eye whirring to examine her up and down.

"I s 'pose so," the old retired Auror admitted gruffly. "Why? You do Dark Magic?" Several people around them scoffed at the idea, but Brethany only grinned crookedly.

"Quite often, actually," she admitted blithely. "It's good for a DADA teacher to have a well rounded education in the Dark Arts. Makes it easier to teach Defense if I can give them something real to defend i_against_/i, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, certainly, she can't mean that," a red-haired woman, surely the Weasley matriarch, spoke up, the nervous laughter in her voice dying away as Brethany turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I am a practitioner of the Dark Arts," the DADA teacher informed the other woman firmly. "I have been since I was twelve."

"Twelve?!"

"Certainly," Brethany nodded. "My father made sure that all his children knew how to use Dark Magic as well as Light under most imaginable circumstances. He's an Auror, you see, and there've been many a criminal has attacked my family because of his status, so we had to know how to protect ourselves." She turned back to the grizzled old Auror. "So, the Foe Glass is unlikely to suddenly show me on the surface, and the Sneakoscope, well, that thing is about as reliable as my own two eyes in discovering hidden plotters." She grinned. "For instance, I could have the twins here approach the Sneakoscope and it would likely go right off. They're plotting, the two of them." All gazes turned to the two young men, whose eyes went wide at the sudden attention. They did indeed suddenly look remarkable self-conscious.

"Now, I wouldn't say that they're spies or intruders," Brethany laughed. "But they're definitely suspicious, especially with all those little things they're hiding in their pockets." The twins clutched at their pockets in sudden guilt; their accuser laughed merrily. "Come on, you two, I'm just kidding." She dropped the grin and stared at them. "But you leave those joke items in the pockets until after the meeting is over or you'll be in big trouble with me." Amusement rippled through the rest of the group as the twins nodded vigorously in acquiescence.

"Now that you have successfully made your presence known," Dumbledore spoke up, his eyes twinkling merrily, "Perhaps we could officially introduce you?" Brethany grinned, and inclined her head. "If we could all be seated?" There was a small din as everyone was seated.

"As I am certain we are all aware, this is Brethany Lewis, the current DADA teacher at Hogwarts." Dozens of eyes focused on the young woman in blatant curiosity.

"You're the one who's friends with that French vampire master?" an older man spoke up eagerly. "Caused quite the stir in the Ministry when we caught wind of that."

Brethany had to grin at the thought. The trip to the vampire colony had proven i_most_/i beneficial. Pierre had stated quite firmly that he and his would remain solidly neutral so long as Voldemort left them well alone. Should they be attacked, however, thousands of years of collective experience would be brought to bear against the dark lord.

"She, along with Messrs. Weasley will be inducted into the Order tonight if they pass the test." Brethany's head turned sharply toward the Headmaster. There had been no mention of a test!

"Bugger," the twins muttered behind her.

"Severus, you have the Veritaserum?" Dumbledore questioned the Potions Master. The dark man nodded and brought forth a small vial. "I do believe the twins should go first." Said twins exchanged wry looks, but sat down in the offered chairs. "Gentlemen, I'm sure you know how this goes?" the Headmaster smiled, eyes twinkling.

Brethany watched with interest as the Truth Serum was administered to both boys.

"What are your names?" the questioning began.

"Frederick Weasley."

"George Weasley."

And so the questioning continued for a few minutes, verifying their identities, loyalties, and so forth. The questioning was not overly invasive, although Molly Weasley did manage to get the whereabouts of several household items from them, much to the onlookers' amusement. Finally, the twins were administered the antidote, and it was Brethany's turn to feel herself drift away under the effects of the Truth potion.

"What is your name?"

"Brethany Jessica Lewis."

"What is your occupation?"

"I am a self-employed wandcrafter, and am employed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

"A wandcrafter, eh?" Moody grinned. "That could be useful." He focused a whirling eye on the young woman. "Have you ever practiced the Dark Arts?"

"Yes," Brethany answered easily, inwardly rolling her eyes.

"Come, come, Alastor, she already told us that," Albus chided gently. The ancient auror grumbled slightly, but continued.

"Have you ever used the Dark Arts to kill?"

Brethany mentally winced. "Yes." There was a huge stir at that.

"What and who did you kill using the Dark Arts?"

"I killed four rabbits, two turtles, six snakes, and three mice. I killed Travis Merley, Adam Jenkins, and Judith MacFarley." Brethany closed her eyes as she spoke, unwilling to watch their expressions as the room descended into chaos.

"Silence!" Dumbledore's command brought things back to order. "The questioning will continue." Silence fell. "Alastor, continue."

"Why did you kill them?"

"I killed the animals while learning certain Dark spells; they were practice targets. I killed Travis Merley in self-defense when he attacked my family. I killed Adam Jenkins because I lost control of my magic during my magical inheritance." The young woman visibly flinched, even under the influence of the Vertitaserum. Snape and Dumbledore exchanged glances, obviously recognizing the story. "I killed Judith MacFarley because she requested it; she was dying of a magical disease and would have suffered excruciating torture before finally succumbing." Brethany's body began to tremble slightly.

"Have you ever used the Dark Arts to further the Dark Lord's cause?" Moody hastened the questioning on.

"No, not intentionally." The auror frowned slightly at the ambiguous answer, but continued.

"Have you ever used Light Magics to further the Dark Lord's cause?"

She repeated the previous answer.

"Are you in any way loyal to the Dark Lord's cause?"

"I agree with some minor points that purebloods add to Voldemort's rhetoric."

"What points do you agree with?"

"I agree that muggles should not be permitted knowledge of the existence of the Wizarding World until they are ready for it. I agree that Muggleborn wizards and witches should not be allowed to attend magic school alongside of pure- and half-bloods without first receiving some form of integration into the Wizarding World. I agree that the Dark Arts should not be the pariah that it is. I agree that the current Wizarding government in Britain is not as it should be and requires change." There were several chuckles at the last point; Fudge and his politics were not well liked by the Order.

"Are you coming to join this Order of the Phoenix with any subversive or fraudulent intent?"

"No."

Moody looked over at the Headmaster. "I'm satisfied. Give 'er the antidote." Severus instantly moved to administer the potion.

Brethany kept her eyes closed for a long moment, closing all her emotions inside shields, then looked up at Dumbledore. "I really wish you would have warned me about this, Albus. I might have prepared," she spoke mildly, belying the stony look in her eyes.

"I am afraid that is rather the point, my dear," Dumbledore offered, his gaze only slightly apologetic. "You understand our need to ensure that no one can infiltrate the Order, I'm sure." The twinkle in his eyes froze to a sharp crystal.

"Yes, of course," she murmured, reigning in all her outrage. Feeling slightly foolish for her indignation, Brethany pulled her chair up to the table.

"Now that we have taken care of that business," Dumbledore began, "I would like to officially welcome Fred and George Weasley and Brethany Lewis to the Order of the Phoenix." There was a small round of applause. "As Brethany is not aware of much of the background of our group, I would like for everyone to introduce him or herself and tell his part in the Order." He smiled. "I suppose I shall start: I am Albus Dumbledore, head of this Order and liaison to the Wizarding government of Britain and Europe."

"Pshaw, as though that's all you contribute," a voice piped up from the opposite side of the table. Amusement rippled around the room. He gestured to Mad-Eye.

"Alastor Moody," the old man grumbled. "Auror, pulled out of retirement; general reconnaissance, security, and strategy." He grinned fiercely. "And the best damn dueler we've got in here, besides Albus, Filius, and Snape."

The introductions continued around the table, and Brethany carefully catalogued each face, name, and description in her mind to be examined later. It was interesting hearing the roles each played in the group, especially…

"Severus Snape: Potions Master, strategist, Legilimens, and spy." Eyes all around the room watched for Brethany's reaction.

"Spy?" the young woman asked quietly, eyes hooded. Severus gave a short nod. "So, you are a Death Eater." It was not a question. Another short nod. "Hm." Brethany seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, Severus. I'm certain that's an exceedingly difficult role to play, not to mention dangerous. I am grateful you would take such a position." The two considered each other carefully, faces blank. The entire room was silent, conscious of the undercurrents between the two colleagues.

"I suppose it's my turn," Brethany finally spoke brightly. "Brethany Lewis, wandmaker, Legilimens, and well versed in both the Dark Arts and defense thereof; liaison to the American Aurors and the British vampires," there was a stir at this, "And," she paused, "To the American Unspeakables." Everyone froze in their seats, staring at her in shock. Unable to help herself, Brethany grinned and said, "Pleasure to meet you all." Chaos instantly broke out.

Word Count: 2455


	22. Chapter 22

In our last chapter…

_"Spy?" the young woman asked quietly, eyes hooded. Severus gave a short nod. "So, you are a Death Eater." It was not a question. Another short nod. "Hm." Brethany seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, Severus. I'm certain that's an exceedingly difficult role to play, not to mention dangerous. I am grateful you would take such a position." The two considered each other carefully, faces blank. The entire room was silent, conscious of the undercurrents between the two colleagues. _

"_I suppose it's my turn," Brethany finally spoke brightly. "Brethany Lewis, wandmaker, Legilimens, and well versed in both the Dark Arts and defense thereof; liaison to the American Aurors and the British vampires," there was a stir at this, "And," she paused, "To the American Unspeakables." Everyone froze in their seats, staring at her in shock. Unable to help herself, Brethany grinned and said, "Pleasure to meet you all." Chaos instantly broke out._

And Now…

-Saturday, November 17-

"This is so embarrassing," Brethany muttered to herself, staring down at her outfit. "I haven't worn this since I was…sixteen." The dancing slippers were a bit snug, she mused, the skirt a bit short, and the neck of the blouse a bit low due to the aging of the cloth and the, er, growth of her body. "I'm going to kill Harry for asking me to do this," she muttered as she adjusted the clothing with a wave of her wand.

"If you think I'm having any more fun out of this than you, you are much mistaken," Harry stomped into the room, his face in a scowl. "It's bloody embarrassing, is what it is."

"My words exactly," she muttered back, looking the teenager over. "Harry, we have to do something about your clothes." It was true. All the boy's muggle clothing were ridiculously large and ragged on him; castoffs and hand-me-downs from his (much)bigger cousin. It was never a problem when he wore the Hogwarts uniform, but for extra-curricular activities such as a private dance lesson (and didn't that sound dreadfully improper, Brethany tutted at herself), the baggy t-shirt tucked into horribly large jeans, and clean but ancient tennis shoes were the only clothes he could wear.

"Well, when you come up with some way for me to shop for regular clothes and then keep the Dursleys from confiscating them, let me know," the teenager retorted spitefully. "Dumbledore and his bloody plots within plots," he muttered. "He knows I hate the Dursleys." Brethany rolled her eyes, used to the hormonal outbursts she occasionally brought upon herself.

"Well, Merlin knows we'll do both those things eventually," she sighed. "Until then, we'll go the cheap, temporary route and just transfigure them." The teacher waved the wand over his outfit, reducing the horribly baggy clothing to smaller, snugger items of better materials. "You might want to take your shoes off, Harry, since I'd rather like to keep my toes the way they are." He glared at her, but it was mild. Obviously, he'd regained some control; Occlumency was handy in that respect.

"By the by, did you see Neville on your way up?"

"Yes," Harry answered distractedly as he surveyed the set up of the room. "He was just a tick behind me, so he should be here any moment." And, timed to perfection, there was a knock at the door. Brethany opened it with a grin, then halted when she saw not one, but three teenagers at the door to her classroom.

"Ron? Dean?" Harry peered over his teacher's shoulder to see two of his roommates. "What are you two doing here?"

"Right, let's do this," the two intruders barreled into the room and stood confidently before visibly deflating. "Harry, mate, you know I can't dance worth pants," Ron spoke grumblingly.

"So you thought you'd come crash _my_ dance lesson?"

"Sorry, mate," Dean apologized with a grin, "But where else are we going to learn how to dance? McGonagall?" There was a chorus of groans at that memory. Off to the sides, Brethany had to grin. Now _there_ was an idea.

"All right, boys," she called out. Silence descended as the four teenage boys turned to look at her. "It's fine with me if you all want to learn." There was a mix of grins and scowls. "However, I need to go fetch a few things from my room, so if you would be so kind as to distract yourself for a few minutes?"

Brethany snagged Harry on her way to the door. "Don't kill them, aye?" She took his growl as confirmation and ran down the corridor towards the teachers' lounge. When she entered, there were only a few teachers present.

"Rolanda! Pomona!" The two women looked up at her voice. "Are you two busy? Of course you're not!" They were swept away in a whirlwind of energetic DADA teacher. "I have four teenage boys in my classroom, three of whom want to learn how to dance." Brethany laughed at the stupefied expressions on the women's faces. "Ron Weasley and Dean Thomas invited themselves to my dance lesson with Harry, so now I need a couple girls to be their partners."

"So now you've kidnapped us in order to provide dance partners for your intruders?" Hooch was amused; her golden eyes twinkled madly in a manner reminiscent of Dumbledore's.

"Exactly," the DADA teacher answered, grinning madly.

"I knew you were barmy, Brethany," Pomona Sprout huffed, trying her hardest to keep up with the two younger, taller women. "Who's the fourth boy, then?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Ah," the Herbology teacher nodded in understanding. "That boy's a lovely dancer, and he's got barrels of patience. He's a good choice as an instructor." Brethany gave a 'hmm' in agreement as she pushed her classroom door open, only to view the boy with 'barrels of patience' slamming another boy upside the head with a textbook.

"Boys!" Caught between shock and laughter, Brethany shouted out to gain the fighters' attention. The tussle halted instantly, and the four hoodlums turned as one to face the three female teachers. "My word! I leave you four alone for five minutes and you start fighting." She tsked disapprovingly. "I won't take points from Gryffindor, but you will be volunteering to help clean this classroom after our lesson." They all looked ashamed except Harry, who managed an expression of lofty amusement, having participated in that 'punishment' many times that term.

"I'm s-sorry, Professor Lewis," Neville apologized sincerely. Dean and Ron echoed the sentiments, while Harry looked on with a grin. "What?" he asked, when the gazes of his dorm mates went to him. "Brethany knows it was just a scrap between mates. Besides, I help clean this room at least once a week anyhow."

"Yes, well, you're quickly approaching having to clean without magic, young man," the DADA teacher scolded teasingly. "Don't make me have you stand in the corner!"

"Ooh, not the corner! I'm so ashamed of myself; I'll never be bad again! Please, don't make me stand in the corner, Professor Lewis!" Eyebrows raised at the expression of pure mischief on Harry's face, an expression that had not been seen there in quite some time.

"If you're good, I won't," Brethany promised with a grin. "All right, I won't punish you with the corner. Your real punishment: you get to learn how to dance!" The boys stared at her, not at all amused. She turned to the other two women. "Do you know, I do believe they're not looking forward to this?"

"I do believe you're right, dear," Pomona Sprout agreed, laughing gently at the boys. "Not that I can blame them. I remember my own first dancing lessons well. Poor Monsieur Dasios! I must have trodden his toes with every step!" The three women chuckled, but the teenagers only became more apprehensive.

The group split up into couples: Brethany with Harry, Dean with Professor Sprout, and a blushing Ron with Madam Hooch. Neville scurried among the couples, directing the boys on where to put their hands, how to move their feet, and how to lead in general. Poor Ron had the worst luck; Hooch was not at all shy about telling him to grip harder, as his hand felt like it was going to slide down her body. The other boys were quite relieved to have tamer partners. The music, magically conjured up by Brethany's wand, changed tempo and rhythm every so often in order to teach the boys how to follow to the beat, though this concept mostly escaped them.

After half an hour of 'dancing', the group unanimously proclaimed it time for a break. The women seated themselves to nurse their toes and shins, and the boys conferred together for several minutes in furious whispers. When the music began again, Harry found himself left with the flying instructor, much to Brethany's amusement. The three couples whirled around the room in a relatively rhythmic manner as Neville supervised and corrected the boys' form. In the middle of a song, the door to the classroom opened and permitted the entrance of some faculty members.

"What in Merlin's name?" Minerva McGonagall watched the proceedings in amused consternation. Beside her, Flitwick squeaked with laughter as Dean failed spectacularly to steer Brethany into a spin.

"I'm afraid to ask," the little Charms teacher chuckled. "Another one of Brethany's little plans, I suppose, though I've no idea how she got Pomona and Rolanda in on it." They watched another moment. "Potter's rather a good dancer, when he has someone else leading." McGonagall snickered quietly in agreement.

The two continued to watch the lesson, unnoticed by the participants until Neville squeaked out, "Professor McGonagall! What- you- here- eep!" and the dancers stumbled to a halt.

"Oh, please, do not let us interrupt this fine display," Filius gestured. All four boys blushed brightly and Professor Sprout pinked slightly. Brethany and Rolanda exchanged entertained grins.

"Professors McGonagall, Flitwick," Harry greeted politely, regaining his composure with some small effort (a benefit of constant Occlumency). "We were just, er, just…" and his composure failed him as he looked to his friends for assistance.

"We were dancing, obviously," Ron spoke up boldly.

"Obviously," McGonagall repeated dryly. "I believe some practice is in order before it will become readily apparent what you are endeavoring to do." The boys winced slightly, but had to agree. "I'm certain that by the arrival of the Yule Ball your dancing abilities will be up to par," their Head of House deigned to reassure them. "Providing, of course, that you put as much effort into it as you put into Quidditch," she looked pointedly at Ron and Dean, "Or your extra-curricular studies," she looked at Harry with a lifted eyebrow.

"Yes, Ma'am," the boys chorused hurriedly.

"Hmph." McGonagall turned to the female dancers with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't look at me, Minerva," Hooch grinned. "This was all Brethany's idea. Not that I didn't appreciate the chance to practice dancing, mind you; I so seldom get to lead." Both Ron and Harry flushed when the flying instructor winked at them.

"Rolanda," Pomona scolded, "Stop that. You'll traumatize them." The professors shared a laugh at the expense of the embarrassed teenagers.

"All right, guys," Brethany took pity on the boys. "That's it for tonight. We'll meet Tuesday evening after supper. Bring your own dance partners, ok? Unless, of course, you want me to invite Madam Pince and Professor Trelawney?" She took in their expressions of horror and disgust. "I thought not. You four straighten up this room, and then you can leave." She turned to her two helpers. "Thank you, Rolanda, Pomona, for helping." The two women nodded in return and left, chuckling. "Minerva, Filius? Would you like tea in my office?"

Moments later, the three teachers were ensconced in Brethany's small office. "Quite the show, Brethany," Flitwick remarked in amusement as soon as they sat down. "I don't think I've ever seen Pomona move so sprightly."

"Yes, well, to avoid Mr. Weasley's overgrown feet," Minerva deduced dryly. Brethany laughed.

"So, what can I do for you two?" she asked brightly, curiosity dancing in her eyes. The two teachers exchanged glances, then simultaneously put their tea cups on the table. Flitwick cast a quick ward against any eavesdroppers, and McGonagall sent a locking spell at the door.

"Brethany," Minerva began, "What do you know about Mr. Potter's home situation?" The DADA teacher froze in her seat. What in Merlin's name…

"I know that he lives with muggles over the summer holidays," the younger woman spoke slowly, measuring her words carefully. "I know that his relatives dislike magic, and that his cousin is grossly favored over Harry." Brethany looked from one to the other. "Why?"

"I was informed by Miss Lovegood that Mr. Potter's family is…unpleasant," Filius squeaked slightly in discomfort. "Her insinuations were highly disturbing to me. When I took my concerns to the Headmaster, he seemed not to understand them; he disregarded any requests to investigate Mr. Potter's family."

"Filius then approached myself, and we compared notes," the Transfigurations professor spoke unhappily. "What we gathered was unsettling, to say the least."

Brethany frowned. "So now you have decided to approach _me_? Why?"

Minerva and Filius exchanged sly looks. "Because you are in a position to take Mr. Potter out from under his relatives' influence," the older woman explained. "You are his Occlumency guide; you are legally and magically permitted to act as his guardian until he comes of age."

Brethany sat back in her seat and surveyed her guests. "I am aware of the problems with the Dursleys. I have the situation under consideration, and will handle it appropriately. I think that is all you truly need to know at this point." She smiled at the small expressions of relief. "I know how difficult it is to go behind Albus' back; he's like my mother in that regard." Flitwick chuckled, and Minerva looked amused. "I will not involve either of you in deceiving him, as there is no need to." Their relief grew obviously. "I will take care of Harry as best as we can work out between the two of us."

All three teachers settled back in relief as the topic was summarily dropped. "So, Brethany," Filius began, "That was quite the little bombshell you dropped on the Order last week. I do believe Alastor was ready to have a fit." Brethany had to laugh. Yes, the Order had been quite surprised at her pronouncement.

-Flashback-

_"I suppose it's my turn," Brethany finally spoke brightly. "Brethany Lewis, wandmaker, Legilimens, and well versed in both the Dark Arts and defense thereof; liaison to the American Aurors and the British vampires," there was a stir at this, "And," she paused, "To the American Unspeakables." Everyone froze in their seats, staring at her in shock. Unable to help herself, Brethany grinned and said, "Pleasure to meet you all." Chaos instantly broke out._

_ "You're an Unspeakable?" Brethany had to grin at their shock. "But you're too young!" "How did a British Witch become an American Unspeakable?" "How old were you?" "Why weren't we made aware of this?" _

_ "Hey, people!" Brethany held up her hands in surrender. "Can I have some room to answer questions?" The room quieted. "Thank you. To answer the first question, no, I am not an Unspeakable." Voices rose once again, but she raised her hand to quiet them once again. "But I do have a standing invitation to join them. After I finished my second Mastery, I was approached for recruiting. I declined to join them at that time, partially because my power levels were heavily depleted, and partially because I had received an invitation from Albus to teach at Hogwarts. I needed time to restore my magic levels, and teaching seemed an ideal opportunity for that time, whereas working as an Unspeakable would very likely have made the problems worse." Various people looked disappointed at the bland explanation, but others appeared rather relieved. _

"_I was made aware that several close acquaintances of mine were Unspeakables; it is through them that I have direct access to much of the American Unspeakable network. I have permission to seek advice and information, if necessary, from those contacts. Albus has been dropping hints of Dark artifacts that are supplementing Voldemort's health," several surprised gazes swung towards the Headmaster, "And the Unspeakables are very knowledgeable in that particular area. If it is necessary, I will bring the Unspeakables in. If not, I will keep them alerted as to the general status of the war." Murmurs arose._

-End of flashback-

"You know you enjoyed the ruckus you caused," Minerva accused with an amused look.

"Guilty as charged," Brethany admitted, her eyes twinkling. "I simply couldn't resist." She grinned, then looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, I have scrolls to grade. My sixth years just turned in their twenty inches on an illegal curse of their choice. Miss Granger's will likely take me half the evening to finish reading. I hate overachievers, sometimes." Her fellow teachers grimaced in agreement.

Word Count: 2848


	23. Chapter 23

Previously…

_Minerva and Filius continued to watch the lesson, unnoticed by the participants until Neville squeaked out, "Professor McGonagall! What- you- here- eep!" and the dancers stumbled to a halt._

"_Oh, please, do not let us interrupt this fine display," Filius gestured. All four boys blushed brightly and Professor Sprout pinked slightly. Brethany and Rolanda exchanged entertained grins. _

"_Professors McGonagall, Flitwick," Harry greeted politely, regaining his composure with some small effort (a benefit of constant Occlumency). "We were just, er, just…" and his composure failed him as he looked to his friends for assistance._

"_We were dancing, obviously," Ron spoke up boldly._

"_Obviously," McGonagall repeated dryly. "I believe some practice is in order before it will become readily apparent what you are endeavoring to do." The boys winced slightly, but had to agree. "I'm certain that by the arrival of the Yule Ball your dancing abilities will be up to par," their Head of House deigned to reassure them. "Providing, of course, that you put as much effort into it as you put into Quidditch," she looked pointedly at Ron and Dean, "Or your extra-curricular studies," she looked at Harry with a lifted eyebrow._

And now, our feature presentation…

"Brethany!" A hand banged on the DADA teacher's portal.

Brethany's head jerked up, directly into the lavatory sink. She attempted to blink away stars, groaning all the while, then stumbled through her quarters to the door. Snarling, she yanked it open.

"What- _Harry?_" a choked laugh escaped her as she surveyed the sad wreckage of a teenage boy.

He was green. Not just any green, mind you; it was a bright, fluorescent, glow-in-the-dark sort of green that rarely occurs outside of comic books or cartoons. Every visible area of skin was colored, and his hair was also green, though so dark as to be almost black.

"Yes, yes, laugh it up," the teenager answered grumpily. "I'm going to _murder_ Fred and George." Brethany stood there for a moment, staring dumbly, until Harry finally asked impatiently, "Can I come in?"

Still speechless, his teacher merely stepped inside and gestured for him to enter. "The twins?" Brethany managed, a grin struggling to make its appearance. Harry glared at her. "They do nice work," she commented, before breaking out into laughter. When she finally got herself back under control, she moved for her wand, still giggling occasionally.

"They certainly picked a fine night to turn people green, didn't they?" she asked rhetorically, mentally reviewing the list of possible counter-curses. "Luna likes green, though, doesn't she?" Harry snarled wordlessly at her twitching lips. "And aren't your dress robes forest green? And Luna's dress robes are…"

"Moss green," the teenager supplied grudgingly. Brethany lost control and began giggling once more. "Oh, shut up," he grumbled petulantly, crossing his arms and sulking.

"Sorry," she hastened back to searching her brain for a solution. "Aha! Got it!" Brethany poked at his hair with her wand, ignoring his yelp of protest. "_Reverto coluim_!" The green hair slowly shifted to black, then just as slowly shifted back to the glossy green. "Crap," Brethany hummed, tapping her wand against her chin. "This'll be harder than I thought." She ignored Harry's impatient grumbling. "_Operos meus mos_!" she ordered, waving her wand in an intricate figure-eight over his entire body, concentrating on changing the color. Hair and skin obligingly shifted from the green hue. "There!" Brethany grinned, examining her work with delight. "All fixed! You look much better!"

She tucked her wand behind her ear, an action she'd picked up from Luna, and began pushing the teenager out the door. "All right, Harry, go get ready! Time is a-wasting!" Ignoring his attempts to protest, Brethany shoved the boy out of her rooms, slammed the portal door shut and leaned against it, giggling weakly. _Oh, he's going to kill me when he finds out_, she thought to herself. Ah, well, time to get back to her own toilette.

An hour later, the DADA teacher made her way into the Great Hall, examining the beautifully decorated walls and ceiling. Evergreens hung everywhere, holly interspersed throughout. Ivory tapers floated around the ceiling, thin forest green ribbons tied at each base. Strings of icicles tinkled musically across the high ceiling and occasionally down to the floor in a crystalline spiral. A huge Christmas tree ruled a twenty foot square space, its decorations of glass stars and snowflakes glittering and sparkling. Crimson velvet ribbons were draped over every door and fireplace and sprigs of mistletoe floated mischievously over every entryway, waiting for prey. Brethany made a note to herself to catch Albus under one. A few students, likely those who had no dates, had arrived in the Hall, and were standing about with bored expressions. Brethany snagged up several of the males and ordered them to stand at the bottom of the staircases and escort any of the dateless girls to seats. Only after they left did she permit herself to snigger slightly at their terror-stricken expressions.

The other teachers arrived, their expressions spanning the gamut from brightly cheerful to impatiently bored to if-someone-tries-to-catch-me-under-the-mistletoe-I-will-use-their-organs-for-potions-ingredients. Severus, Brethany observed to herself, looked quite dashing in robes that were such a dark green as to be almost- almost- black.

When Brethany said as much to him, Snape gave a low growl that was rather similar to the one Harry had given only an hour previously. Speaking of Harry…

Brethany turned her head to the side so that no one could see her laughing. Harry and Luna swept into the Great Hall, both looking quite regal. Luna's soft green robes were trimmed with Gold and silver stitching, and there was a slender band of green silk about her throat that matched the one in her hair beautifully. Tiny green apples dangled from her ears and tiny apple blossoms were pinned throughout her curls. At her side, Harry was looking equally magnificent in his garb. The rich green robes were trimmed with black and gold stitching, and a wide band of black circled each wrist and the collar. The lighter green of his tunic beneath the darker robe brought out his eyes magnificently, and offset his pale blond hair equally as well.

Brethany struggled not to laugh as whispers broke out and fingers began to point at the blond hair of the Boy-Who-Lived, as well as the seven small freckles that now adorned his nose. For his part, Harry looked remarkably composed, likely due to his oblivious girlfriend. Around Brethany, her fellow teachers looked askance at the new coloring of Gryffindor's Golden Boy. "It looks rather good on him, doesn't it," Brethany asked idly, smoothing a curl away from her face. Snape snorted his disgust, but the others were quite curious.

"Harry was the target of a pigment-changing sweet from the Weasley twins." There was a chorus of understanding nods. "He then came to me to see if I could fix it," the young woman continued, "And I replaced the green skin and hair with that," she nodded at the golden-blond hair and freckles.

"Sometimes I wonder, Brethany," Minerva mused, "Just who is the teacher, you or Mr. Potter?" Brethany grinned unrepentantly at the elder woman.

"Aren't we all teachers in some form or another?" she questioned whimsically. "I find that I've learned quite a bit from my students. Surprisingly, I've learned the most from my Slytherin students; they're very good about questioning my ego." There were several amused snorts as all eyes turned to the rather smug Head of the house Slytherin.

"Someone must keep it in check," Severus drawled in a bored tone, "Else it would run amok amongst our lesser, more sensitive fellow human beings." He strode away to reprimand a group of roughhousing students before anyone could react.

"Did he just-" Pomona Sprout trailed off, a hand twitching in the departing Potions Master's direction.

"He did indeed," Dumbledore responded with a twinkling grin. Brethany turned her head to hide a silent laugh, curls bouncing in her effort to control her amusement.

"Oh, dear," she murmured quietly, looking down at her favorite student. "Someone's plotting…" Indeed, Harry was looking up at the head table with quite the look of mischief on his face. Brethany caught his attention with a little wave, and cocked an eyebrow in question. The teenager smirked, and proceeded to ignore her. "The next few days should be interesting…"

The last of the students drifted slowly in, and the Headmaster waved a regal hand for quiet. "Welcome," he beamed down at the gathered teenagers, "To the Hogwarts Yule Ball. I will not spoil your enjoyment of this occasion by speaking overly long. I hope that you will all show the true spirit of this joyous season and make this a happy event for us all. If not, well…I am certain Professors Snape and Lewis can come up with some deterrent from future misbehaviors." Eyes swiveled towards the two teachers. Brethany smiled angelically and tapped her wand against her hand in a deliberately malevolent gesture; Snape merely scowled fiercely. "That being said," Dumbledore twinkled gleefully, "Happy Christmas! And may the festivities begin!"

Music began playing from some unseen source, and the first couple stepped out onto the cleared dance floor. Dumbledore held his arm out to McGonagall, who accepted it with a rather impish grin. Brethany's eyebrows rose in surprise at the ease with which the two whisked across the dance floor. "Maybe I should have asked Minerva to help with the dance lessons, rather than Pomona," she muttered to herself. "Ah, well, what's done, is done."

"What are you muttering about," Snape snapped quietly, scowl cemented firmly on his face.

"Oh, nothing to be concerned about," Brethany replied merrily. "You really do make a wonderful Scrooge, Severus," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed toward the milling students. "Neville! There you are, dear boy!" She beamed at the teenagers surrounding them. "Would you please dance with me? Severus Scrooge over there is trying to drag my mood down…Cheer a lady up, won't you?" Neville looked over to Snape, who was doing a i_marvelous_/i job of not following Brethany's every move with his dark eyes, and grinned.

"I'd be delighted to dance with you, m' lady," he bowed slightly, managing to shock the other students into silence. Was this shy, awkward Neville Longbottom, who stammered every time a girl looked at him? Ignoring the stares, the young man held am arm out to his teacher and led her gamely through the crowd and onto the dance floor. It was a lovely experience for Brethany: Neville was charming when he felt comfortable, and their haphazard dancing lessons had served to make the victims thereof quite friendly with each other; nothing to start up gossip, of course, but quite comfortable around one another.

"You turned Harry blond," the teenager accused her mildly, moving her gently through a turn. Brethany's eyes brightened.

"I was feeling creative," she shrugged. "Harry doesn't seem to mind it, and Luna hasn't shown any signs of having even noticed the change. I'll turn him back to normal before the end of the night, no harm done." She twirled once and returned to her partner's grasp. "By the way, how is your Grandmum? I've yet to receive permission for you to attend the trip to the vampire colony…"

Neville frowned slightly, his gaze drifting slightly to the right of her face. "She wrote me, once, to ask if my DADA teacher was, er, barmy, you know? I wrote back, explaining how you'd been giving us practical demonstrations of everything you'd teach, and how the trip would be really well supervised, and how educational it might be, and how much I was looking forward to it."

Brethany raised an eyebrow. "You look forward to the trip? You're one of only a few, then." He flushed slightly. "I'll write your Grandmum myself, explaining everything I can. You just see if she doesn't come around!" The teenager grinned brightly at her and swept her into a dizzying spin. Laughing giddily, Brethany allowed herself to enjoy the last few moments of the dance.

Several minutes later, she was headed silently for the punch bowl, ready to counteract any damage done by the Weasley twins. "Hello, boys," she drawled quietly, causing the two redheads to startle and spill a vial of some blue substance into the punch. "Do I want to know what that was?" Fred and George exchanged slightly horrified looks, then turned guileless smiles on her.

"It was a Sobering Potion," one began. "To keep everyone from getting a bit tipsy…" "…We might have, possibly, not necessarily," "…But possibly slipped a little Fire Whiskey into the punch bowl a few minutes ago…" "But our consciences overcame us, and we couldn't leave…" "the poor, ickle students to become drunk!" The twins looked at her with identical scandalized expressions. Brethany raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"I see," she finally said, struggling to keep her expression blank. "So the fact that Sobering Potions are light green, and that the Giddiness Potion is that particular shade of blue would not convince you to change your story at all?" The twins exchanged another brief glance, then fell on their knees in supplication.

"You are too smart for us, oh, great Mistress! Please punish us for our unforgivable sins! We are disgraced! Oh, the shame this moment has brought upon us! Only a just and humane punishment could relieve us of this burden of guilt! Please, oh, great Mistress-" their pleas were cut off by a sharp pat on their bowed heads.

Brethany rolled her eyes. "For Merlin's sake, you two are worse than all my brothers combined. Shut up and look at me, Messrs. Weasley." They obeyed, displaying pathetically teary and remorseful gazes. "Oh, stop with the teary eyes, you horrible wretches. I'm not going to get you in trouble…yet." The two were on their feet in a flash, infectious grins on their faces. "Now, it's rather plain that this _isn't _a Sobering Potion, which leads me to believe that you did not, in fact, pour any Fire Whiskey in the punch." The twins exchanged looks, then shrugged elegantly. "I swear, you two…" Brethany shook her head. "Give me the rest of that blasted vial." She took the vial, looked briskly around to see if anyone was observing them, and promptly poured the rest of the potion into the punch bowl. "That percentage of Giddiness Potion in the punch won't hurt anyone…and I might have some fun with it." She grinned at the amazed boys. "How much punch do you think I can get Professor McGonagall to drink before she will start giggling?" The DADA teacher walked off, two glasses of the punch in hand; Fred and George watched her leave with something akin to hero worship.

Brethany snagged Harry for the next dance. They were moving swiftly through the throng of couples on the dance floor as they conversed quietly about plans for the next several weeks. It didn't take long for the teacher to bring up the looming topic of family…

"Harry…What do you think of your guardians?" she asked carefully. Harry's steps faltered slightly in rhythm as he looked at her in startled surprise.

"Ah…you mean my aunt?"

"And Headmaster Dumbledore," Brethany nodded in affirmation. The teenager's gaze lingered on a point just to the left of her face.

"I…would rather be on my own, if that's what you mean. But that won't happen for another ten months." He looked at her matter-of-factly. "Dumbledore has entirely too much power over me for my comfort, even if I _do_ trust him in most things other than my home life." They danced in silence for a long minute. "I can't even apply for emancipation," he grumbled slightly. "I tried, you know. I've written to the Ministry and to Gringotts for information on the process. I can't be emancipated unless I have valid reasons for doing so…The Ministry doesn't even believe that the Dark Lord is back, much less that their 'hero' is being shoved about by Dumbledore and some muggles…" Brethany frowned, and he hastened to explain, "Dumbledore just orders me around and manipulates me as though I'm some bloody puppet, with strings! He doesn't do that to any other student…he can't. _They've_ got parents," Harry finished bitterly.

Brethany hummed quietly, eyeing her student curiously. So he _had _been thinking about it… "I'll see what I can do about it, Harry," she promised firmly, avoiding the gyrations of an overly excited Hufflepuff. "For Merlin's sake, Harry, lead me away from these maniacs before we're killed." They finished the dance in relative comfort, the conversation having been carefully guided to lighter topics. Brethany made a subtle gesture around the teenager as she twirled into the last spin; Harry's hair and freckles changed slowly back to their normal state. She curtsied with a small grin and moved towards the teachers' table, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her chin.

_Guardians_, the young woman mused silently, _I __**could **__apply for guardianship. It's what Minerva all but suggested…Hmmm…_

Word Count: 2638


	24. Chapter 24

Previously…

_"Harry…What do you think of your guardians?" she asked carefully. Harry's steps faltered slightly in rhythm as he looked at her in startled surprise._

"_Ah…you mean my aunt?"_

"_And Headmaster Dumbledore," Brethany nodded in affirmation. The teenager's gaze lingered on a point just to the left of her face._

"_I…would rather be on my own, if that's what you mean. But that won't happen for another ten months." He looked at her matter-of-factly. "Dumbledore has entirely too much power over me for my comfort, even if I **do** trust him in most things other than my home life." They danced in silence for a long minute. _

_"I can't even apply for emancipation," he grumbled slightly. "I tried, you know. I've written to the Ministry and to Gringotts for information on the process. I can't be emancipated unless I have valid reasons for doing so…The Ministry doesn't even believe that the Dark Lord is back, much less that their 'hero' is being shoved about by Dumbledore and some muggles…" Brethany frowned, and he hastened to explain, "Dumbledore just orders me around and manipulates me as though I'm some bloody puppet, with strings! He doesn't do that to any other student…he can't. **They've** got parents," Harry finished bitterly. _

_Brethany hummed quietly, eyeing her student curiously. So he had been thinking about it… "I'll see what I can do about it, Harry," she promised firmly._

And Now…

"Harry!" Brethany stood on the Quidditch field, waving her arms to catch the teenager's attention. Harry looked down and finally noticed his teacher waiting for him. With a final corkscrew turn in the air, he flew quickly down to the ground and dismounted. "Quite impressive," Brethany told him, a smile on her face. He grinned in answer. His teacher quickly sobered.

"We need to talk."

"Well, that doesn't sound good," Harry spoke cautiously. "Can you hold on a bit, so I can put my broom away?"

"Go ahead. I'll meet you at the Room of Requirement."

"Right." He moved to put the broom across his shoulders and started trudging up towards the castle.

"And Harry?" The teenager looked back at his teacher. "If anyone asks, tell them you'll be training with me for the rest of the afternoon. If it's absolutely necessary for someone to reach you, they're to go to Hagrid; he'll tell them how to contact us." Brethany's expression was grim. "But that's only if there's an emergency. Under no other circumstances is our training session to be interrupted."

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. "We're not really going to be training, are we?"

"No," Brethany shook her head. "But, we are going to be resolving some issues. It's very important that no one comes looking for us." The teenager frowned, but nodded. He trusted her judgment, for the most part.

The young woman watched as the teenager headed to the castle. This will either alienate him completely, or deepen his trust in me, she mused. Hopefully, it's the latter. Whatever happens, he needs this.

When the two met outside the Room of Requirement, Brethany was ready. "Come on in," she held the door open for him. "I already set it up for us." Harry raised an eyebrow, but entered.

The Room had taken the appearance of the interior of a clothing shop. Racks of robes covered much of the area, and an entire wall was covered with mirrors. Stacks of trousers, shirts, jumpers, and tunics were piled on low tables. Cloaks of every color and material imaginable were spread out over a counter. It was more clothes than Harry had ever dreamed existed.

"What-"

"I'm giving you a new wardrobe," Brethany told him bluntly. "You can't go to the Ministry in your own clothes; they make you look like a schoolboy."

"I am a schoolboy," he retorted. "And there's nothing wrong with my clothes." Harry halted suddenly. "Wait, the Ministry? Why-"

"I'm taking you to the Ministry so we can fill out the necessary paperwork to get you away from those relatives of yours," Brethany explained bluntly. Harry gaped at her in shock. "As your Occlumency teacher, with the magical, physical, mental and emotional bond therein involved, I have the magical and legal right to claim you as my ward. If I were to do so, the Dursleys would have no claim to you, your money, or your political power. Dumbledore would no longer be the authority in your life, which means you would no longer have to return to the Dursleys' for the summer hol's." Harry just stared at her. Brethany sighed, and waved her wand, conjuring up two comfortable chairs.

"Have a seat, Harry." Numbly, the teenager obeyed. "Now, I know I'm throwing this at you out of nowhere, but I just yesterday finished researching all the ins and outs of the situation." She paused. "When you and I were dancing at the Yule Ball, you mentioned just how much you loathed the power Dumbledore has over you. I understand that, and I want to give you a little freedom."

"Er…how does your having control over me give me more freedom," Harry asked in confusion, trying unsuccessfully to bring his thoughts under control.

Brethany sighed. "Come on, Harry, you know me. You've seen inside my head, just like I've seen inside yours. I'm only four and half years older than you are. I know what you want, what you need. When I was your age, I was in two simultaneous apprenticeships; I was completely responsible for myself, but I was also under the control of two different masters. I survived it, and probably learned a lot and became more powerful through it, but I hated the experience. I know what it's like to be pulled in two different directions, and I know how much you hate it. Dumbledore has hold of you, the Ministry has hold of you, the Dursleys have hold of you, and there's not much left of you for just yourself. I can change that, if you'll let me."

Harry stared at her for a long moment. "How?" he finally asked, his eyes calculating.

Brethany heaved a silent sigh of relief. He was at least hearing her out. "Once I have guardianship, I have complete control over you until you come of age at seventeen, less than a year from now, and complete control over your political and economic holdings until you turn twenty-one. This reduces the people who control you down to one. No one else has any control over you, no one else can make decisions about your life, and no one else can claim your holdings. I would be, in essence, a parent.

"The Ministry cannot declare you a ward of the State, an action which would put you firmly in their clutches; Dumbledore cannot claim to be your magical guardian and thus make decisions about where you stay during the holidays, what your schooling consists of, or what your position as the Boy-Who-Lived entails you; the Dursleys cannot legally keep you in their place of residence, claim rights of authority over you, or have access as your legal guardians to your money.

"I can give my approval to any and all job opportunities you find for yourself; I can grant approval for any applications towards an apprenticeship before you finish school here; I can use your political and economic holdings toward any purpose you wish," here she cast a sly grin toward the teenager, "Such as getting Fudge kicked out of office." Harry choked. "Not that I advocate using power for personal gain," Brethany winked. "But kicking Fudge out…That would be a service to the people."

"So…you're volunteering to be my guardian?" Harry was honestly curious, as well as interested in what she had to gain from the arrangement. "Why?"

Brethany sighed. "Frankly, I just didn't want you to have to go back to the Dursleys during the summer. Recently, though, I've decided that you need someone who's there for you, and you alone. The Weasleys are great; I know you view them as family. But, I know you realize that they cannot be there for you in the same way that they are there for their own family." She watched as his face tightened slightly, and knew she had hit a nerve. "I can be there for you, not only as a teacher, but also as a friend, sister, and, to whatever extent I can give and you can accept, a mother."

Harry breathed in shakily. The proposal offered a completely new turn to his life. What should he do?

"I'm sorry I just threw this at you out of the blue, but I don't think either of us could keep it a secret from Dumbledore." Brethany took a deep breath. "If we do this, it has to be this afternoon, before anyone can find out in time to stop us."

Harry stared at her for a long moment, his thoughts in complete confusion. He had to decide at once? Merlin, he was supposed to take five minutes to decide who should have control of his life for the next year? Merlin!

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry came to a decision. "Don't be," he told her firmly. His green eyes caught hers and held. "Let's do it." Brethany expelled a gasp of relief, then grinned. Harry grinned back at her, gratitude dancing in his eyes. "We can shock everyone with the news tonight."

"Absolutely," the young woman returned. "We'll just have to make sure it doesn't leak to the press too quickly." At his questioning look, she smiled sheepishly. "My family doesn't know anything about it. I was figuring on telling them to expect a new member of the family for Christmas." Brethany grinned at his confused expression. "Fancy going to America for the Yule?" Harry gaped at her in shock, and she laughed quietly.

"Welcome to the family, Harry," the young woman spoke gently, a small smile on her face.

Harry looked at her, stupefied, then smiled back. "Thanks, Brethany." The two stood grinning at each other stupidly for a moment, then the elder shook herself.

"All right, so we need to get you fit for a public appearance," the DADA teacher spoke briskly. "I didn't ask the Room for quite all these clothes, but we can work with it. You need to find a robe that you like from over there," she pointed to the formal robes, "And I will find trousers, tunic and waistcoat to match." Brethany grinned giddily. "I haven't played dress-up since I was thirteen." Harry rolled his eyes. "OK, let's get to it."

The area degenerated into utter chaos after that. Clothes were strewn everywhere as the two searched through piles, tossed selections back and forth, and held items up to Harry's body for size, color compatibility, and style. After nearly an hour, they had decided on an outfit. Brethany shooed the teenager behind a curtained area to change, then ran for the package in the corner she had kept from his notice.

Minutes later, Harry stepped from behind the curtain, a sheepish smile on his face. Brethany's eyes widened, then she grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "You look absolutely, drop-dead, fantastic," the young woman told him bluntly. The teenager flushed brightly, then rolled his eyes in embarrassment. "Turn," Brethany waved her hand encouragingly. He rolled his eyes again, but obeyed. The teenager truly looked wonderful. The entire outfit was formal and businesslike, yet stylish and comfortable: a forest green formal robe with brown and bronze embroidery, black trousers, a light tawny brown tunic, and a green silk waistcoat.

Brethany handed him the package with a grin. "I got these for you last week. I figured I could give them to you with the excuse that I missed my ward's sixteenth birthday if you agreed to the guardianship. If you hadn't, well, I was going to come up with something on the spot." She watched with a grin as the curious teenager opened the package.

"Holy Merlin, _these are __**dragon hide**_!" Harry's voice rose in a screech. Brethany tossed her head back and laughed gaily at his response. The young man lifted the gifts from the package. "Gloves…_boots_…a belt…what is this?" he held up a pair of objects.

"Oh, those are gauntlets: arm guards," Brethany leaned forward to take them from him. "They wrap around your forearms like this, and close with these clasps," she placed them on his arms. "There're wand holsters built into them for your wands, and the innate magic of the hide protects them from summoning spells. Also, the guards absorb magic to a certain extent; you can hold your arms out so," she crossed her forearms several inches in front of her face, "And so," she lowered her crossed arms to protect her torso, "And you can block incoming spells. Very melodramatic and theatrical looking, but effective. I'll be teaching you how to use them in dueling. It can be complicated at first to use them while dueling, but it gets easier with practice."

Brethany picked up another item. "Now this is my favorite: a dragon scale helm. I've never been able to afford one of these for myself until last week." At his askance look, she laughed. "No worries, I'll get one for myself next time, as well." She lifted the shallow, distorted helmet with a grin. "I'll admit, it doesn't look like much, but it can with time."

Teacher-like, she launched into a lecture. "A dragon scale helm is made from a single dragon scale, usually from the creature's chest or shoulder region. The helm will not truly fit unless and until the wearer molds it to his own head. The process of molding can take up to a month of work, depending on the frequency of usage. The molding process begins when the wearer first puts the helm on his head, and continues with every subsequent wearing." Harry looked at her in confusion; Brethany chuckled at his expression. "Dragon scales are like leather; they stretch or tighten to fit the wearer. The biggest difference is that once the scales conform to the wearer, they will only fit that person. It's why dragon scales are so expensive; very few people can harvest the scales without having the scales bond to their magic. Individual dragon scales, like dragons, will only bond with one person's magic; they are not compatible with any person after the first." She grinned. "Any questions?"

"Just one," Harry spoke slowly. "How expensive was all this?" he gestured to the pile of dragon hide. Brethany grinned even wider.

"Comparatively cheap. I have connections who have connections with the Black Market. A dragon was accidentally killed two weeks ago on some muggle farmer's property, and the remains were being sold as quickly as humanly possible. My connections knew I'd been trying to get some dragon hide, scales, blood, and heartstrings for some time; they alerted me of the prospect, and I bought as much as possible." The teenager looked at her doubtfully. "Honestly!" She gave him an innocent look. "I know it's slightly illegal to buy dragon parts without a license, but I couldn't resist…"

"It's illegal?" the teenager demanded, a bemused look on his face. "How did you…Never mind, I don't want to know." Brethany grinned.

"You probably don't," she agreed. "Anyway, I just wanted to give you the boots, gloves, belt, and gauntlets to wear to the Ministry; the rest, you can leave here and we'll pick it up later." Harry grimaced. "Come on, kiddo; we have to leave, or the Department we need to visit won't be open to the public. Your winter cloak is over there…"

Within minutes, they were both prepared, at least physically. With one last shared grin, Brethany disillusioned the teenager, then led the way out of the castle. Once they were beyond the wards, teacher and student side-along-apparated out with a crack.

Harry struggled to keep his face expressionless as he followed the young woman through the Ministry. Certain areas of the huge building were familiar to him from the trial at the beginning of his fifth year and then the disaster in the DoM, and with each recognized landmark, his heart sank further. The Ministry evoked no positive feelings in him.

"Here we are," Brethany halted before a large door. "The Department of Child Services, which, coincidentally, is just next to the Department of Magical Bonds, Inheritance, and Birthrights, which we also need to visit." She released the disillusionment, then swept the teenager through the door. "Hello, dear," she spoke to the secretary. "Can you help me?" Brethany asked brightly, grinning like a shark. The young man behind the desk looked up, extremely startled.

"Er…" the poor man stammered in confusion. "What?…Can I help…er…yes?" Behind Brethany, Harry choked down a snicker. The secretary rallied. "What would you like assistance in?"

Brethany's grin didn't die. "Well, my sanity could use some work…" Harry laughed outright. "But I don't think you're qualified to handle that sort of problem," she reassured the man, who looked caught between relief and affront. "Perhaps I could speak to an official? I'm certain someone could provide assistance with my problem…" The secretary visibly gave up; he rose from his seat and moved to the door of the inner office.

"That was cruel," Harry murmured with a grin; Brethany just smiled smugly.

"If he can't deal with one tough customer, he shouldn't be working in the Ministry. Besides, the Wizarding World is _filled_ with nut jobs and kooks; he really should get used to them."

"Quite so," a woman's amused voice came from the office door. "Although, the fact that one of said 'nut jobs' is in the Child's Services office with a teenager in hand i_is_ slightly worrying."

"Especially considering the fact that the teenager is Harry Potter," Brethany added helpfully, grinning when said teenager frowned. "Not that Harry's unused to being surrounded by crack pots and crazies; he _is_ the Boy-Who-Lived, after all." Both Ministry workers stared at Harry's forehead until he obliged and lifted aside his hair. The woman official appeared to rally herself.

"Well, then," she breathed in some awe. "You'd best come into my office. I am Ms. Patterson, the head of the Child's Services department; whatever you need done, I am certain to be able to help with. Warren," she affixed the secretary with a stern glare, "If Mr. Potter's presence here becomes known, I know exactly who to blame; our work here is confidential in all cases, especially involving one so, er, popular, as Mr. Potter."

"You hear that, Harry?" Brethany grinned. "You're popular. Isn't it grand?"

"Marvelous," Harry replied dryly. "I truly enjoy thousands of witches and wizards believing that I am the greatest thing since the invention of sliced bread. Smashing." He frowned in disgust. "Whoever came up with the title 'Boy-Who-Lived' should have his head examined. It's the most disgusting piece of bunkum I've ever heard. Honestly, it's almost as bad as 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. If you can't call him by his true name, why not come up with some nickname? I like 'Henrietta', personally."

His teacher rolled her eyes at the gaping Ministry workers, and hauled her student into the inner office. "Get in here before you bring the whole Ministry down on us for your heresy." The woman official followed mutely in their wake, shutting the door behind them. Brethany and Harry waited while she made her way behind her desk.

"Well, I must say, I never expected to see Harry Potter in my office," Ms. Patterson attempted to speak brightly, but instantly sobered at the identical looks of annoyance on her visitors' faces. "I assume your visit has something to do with Mr. Potter's guardian or status as a minor?"

Brethany nodded. "I am Brethany Lewis, the DADA instructor at Hogwarts, under which position I first came to know Mr. Potter. Since then, I have become his Occlumency teacher." The other woman's eyes widened in understanding. "I wish- we wish- for all rights of guardianship to be transferred to me under that bond." The department head leaned back in her chair, her eyes studying the two. Harry shifted slightly beneath her gaze, but otherwise remained silent.

"You have proof of this bond." It was not a question, Brethany knew. She simply nodded. "And what does Mr. Potter have to say about this change of guardians?"

"I am pleased with it," the teenager spoke up confidently. "Brethany- Ms. Lewis- has been a wonderful teacher." He paused, but took a deep breath and hurriedly continued, "And friend. She's…great." He flushed at his own lack of words. Brethany simply grinned fondly at him.

"We are both dissatisfied with his current guardians, magical or otherwise," his teacher said bluntly.

"Yes, a, ah, Petunia Dursley and husband, er, Vernon," Ms. Patterson read from a file, then frowned. "Albus Dumbledore is his magical guardian. May I ask why you are dissatisfied with him?" she looked pointedly at Harry, directing the question to him.

Harry's jaw clenched. "Headmaster Dumbledore is, well, he's a great man, but he's…he's too great." Brethany choked down a laugh. "I mean, he's always terribly busy with the school, and with, er, problems with Voldemort," the department head jerked in horror, "And he doesn't seem to care too much about, well, just me." He shifted uncomfortably. "And, he ignores me when I try to talk to him about…things."

"Such as?" Ms. Patterson eyed the teenager keenly.

"Er," Harry ruffled his hair absently, "Like, last year, when I tried to tell him that Umbridge was torturing us during detention…" he noted the older woman's horror and grinned sheepishly. "Um, well, I mean…"

"Torture?" the poor woman repeated, her face going red.

"Er, yeah, she used a blood quill," the teenager muttered in growing self-consciousness, holding out his hand to show the scars of his own dismal handwriting.

"I-must-not-tell-lies," she read off the wounded appendage, her jaw set in horror. "A blood quill! That damned woman used a blood quill on students?" Brethany struggled between vindictive pleasure at shared indignation and hysteria at the obvious incredulity in the other woman's face. The head of Child's Services visibly calmed herself. "Never did like that woman," she muttered to herself. "What else did your magical guardian ignore?"

"Well," Harry began, more than ready to get the whole experience over with, "I've told both Dumbledore and McGonagall that I don't want to go back to the Dursleys' for summer holidays." He shrugged slightly. "They never listened."

"In their defense, Harry," Brethany spoke up, "You never told them just why you did not wish to return there. When you volunteered no information about your home life besides the fact that you and your relatives do not get on well, they had little cause to grant you asylum at Hogwarts for the holidays." She frowned. "I am not, however, saying that they should have ignored your request. They know almost as well as I that you understate _everything_, and getting information about your private life is like pulling teeth. They should have recognized your cry for help for what it was."

"It wasn't a cry for help!" Harry protested in defense of his own independence. "I just didn't want to go back," he finished in a mutter. The two women exchanged wryly amused glances.

"So, exactly what does your home life consist of that is so undesirable?"

Harry looked to his teacher for help, but she gestured for him to begin; he was on his own with this one. "Well, first of all, my room is Dudley's second bedroom where all his junk is kept." He risked a look at Ms. Patterson; she did not seem impressed. "I got that after I received my Hogwarts letter; before that, I had the cupboard under the stairs." _That _garnered a reaction.

"The cupboard under the stairs?" she repeated, almost disbelieving. "And your cousin had not only his own bedroom, but also a, a storage room?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Until I got the second bedroom, anyhow. The broom cupboard was my bedroom for ten years." He watched her jot a note on his file. "Er, none of this will get out, will it?"

The woman was shocked at the question. "Certainly not! All files on our children are kept entirely confidential unless we are given an order by the Wizengamot. No one will be finding this information unless by your permission or illegal means." Harry nodded in relief. "Now, you have told me of your living area; what of your food? Was that also given only meagerly?"

"Yeah." He looked slightly embarrassed. "I only got scraps, and a bite here and there while cooking. It wasn't so bad when I could clear the table after, as I'd grab whatever my uncle and cousin left, which wasn't usually much."

"I've noticed that you are remarkably small for your age," the department head observed critically. "Do you feel this is because of the scarcity of good meals growing up?" He nodded in answer. "What of punishments?"

"My uncle walloped me a few times with his fists, and my aunt slapped me all the time with a wooden spoon or her hand," he shrugged, "but other than that, there wasn't much physical punishment. Mostly I just got thrown into my cupboard without food or water, usually only for a day or two. They'd let me out to cook and clean up, then toss me back in. I dunno if you'd call that punishment, though, since I spent nearly all my time cleaning and cooking anyhow." Harry dared a look at the woman. Ms. Patterson's lips were pressed in a thin line, and her eyes glittered a little madly.

"Er, are you all right?" the question seemed to rouse her from her silent rage.

"Quite well, Mr. Potter, thank you," the woman spoke drily, seeming to gather her wits. "Will you be pressing charges against the Dursleys?" The sentence was scarcely finished before Brethany was replying in the affirmative and Harry in the negative. Student and teacher glared at one another.

"Why shouldn't you press charges for neglect? It will ensure that your cousin is taken from their care and given accountability and some sense of honor," Brethany stated matter-of-factly. "Unless you want Dudley to turn criminal, that is? Which will happen if he's left where he is."

"He'll be perfectly happy staying with my aunt and uncle until they die," Harry shot back. "They'll give him everything he could possibly want, just like they always do."

"Even someone to bully?" his mentor shot back. "So…just let your aunt and uncle go scot-free, never having to think that what they did to you was wrong? What if someone left another child in their keeping? What about Dudley? Just let your cousin grow up into a hood who thinks he can beat or whine everyone into submission, and who will likely die of heart disease by the time he's thirty?" The teenager glared at the floor in response.

"If you like, I can ensure that the hearing would be closed," Ms. Patterson suggested delicately. Harry frowned. "You need not worry about the story getting out to the public, that way. All the cases involving child neglect or abuse require that the officials be sworn to confidentiality; all paperwork falls under something similar."

Brethany sighed. "It's up to Harry whether or not he presses charges against the Dursleys." The two women exchanged measured glances as the teenager looked on with narrowed eyes.

"What would I have to do?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked in tired exasperation. "Would I have to actually see them, or could I just submit some memories for viewing?" He stared at Brethany firmly. "I do not want to see my aunt again if at all possible. _Ever_."

"I believe we could accommodate you, Mr. Potter." The head of Child Services spoke briskly. "Now, if you could provide the proof that you share a Legilimens bond with this minor, Ms. Lewis, I can immediately grant you custody. That way, you can fill out the necessary paperwork for Mr. Potter. If you would follow me next-door to the Department of Magical Bonds, someone will officially verify and document the bond." Brethany made a sour expression as soon as the woman turned away. _Paperwork_, she mouthed to the teenager in disgust. _Erg_. Harry rolled his eyes.

It was late afternoon by the time the two apparated back to the border of Hogwarts. The air was cold and dry, and the winter sun was beginning to set in the west, its last feeble rays setting the slushy snow alight on the ground. Brethany kept her hand on Harry's arm for a moment as they stood in silence.

"Regret it yet?" she asked lightly, a thread of nervousness in her voice. The teenager looked over at her with a small smile.

"Not yet," he replied, wriggling free of her grasp. "Race you to the Great Hall for a mug of hot cider?" Brethany's eyes narrowed at the teenager's apparent carefree attitude.

"Why are you so happy?" she demanded suspiciously. He grinned suddenly.

"I don't have to go back to the Dursleys'!" Harry shouted as he took off for the castle at a run. "Race you!" With a similar grin, his new guardian gave chase.

Later, when Brethany wordlessly handed copies of the documents to Albus, she felt horribly guilty about the deception. Only the memory of Harry's obvious relief and happiness kept her from feeling more than a small amount of regret as she watched the old wizard read through the papers.

"No one else knew we were going to do it, Albus." She spoke quietly, her hands held stiffly behind her back. "Only Harry and I were involved; none of the staff or students were in any way complicit." They were alone in the Headmaster's office. "I finished researching everything about the Legilimens bond just yesterday; as you can see by the date on the paperwork, I carried out the plan this afternoon. Everyone was told that Harry and I were training in the Room of Requirement. Hagrid agreed to alert me if a situation arose where our presence was required; he didn't know what we were doing, though, just that I was taking Harry somewhere and that it had to do with Occlumency."

Brethany continued to stand stiffly as Albus hummed thoughtfully into his beard. "I feel as though I'm confessing to my mother that I stole and ate the entire raspberry tart out of the pantry. Will you please say something, sir, before I drive myself mad?" She couldn't help the small growl of nervous frustration from escaping her.

The headmaster finally looked up. "And what precisely would you like me to say, Brethany? That I am relieved that Harry now has true family he can go to? That I am disappointed that neither of you came to me with this plan? That I am afraid that Harry will not be sufficiently protected throughout the summers now? That I wish I could have been the one to come up with and support this plan?" Each question was put forth in a dry, rather sarcastic tone that Brethany had never heard from the old wizard before. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I rather think that all those things are true, sir." The young woman focused on the gnarly old hands gripping the copied documents. "The only thing I regret about today, sir, is that you weren't standing on the castle steps ready to congratulate Harry and me. I took that opportunity from you, sir; I didn't allow you time to understand and accept what we – _I_ – was doing. I kept it from you because I didn't trust that you had the same priority that I do: keeping Harry safe _and _happy." Dumbledore's knuckles briefly turned white, then relaxed. "If I was mistaken, I am sorry for misjudging you and deceiving you. If I was not mistaken, sir, then I still am sorry for deceiving you, but not for doing what I did without your approval." They stared at one another for a long moment. Brethany felt her throat twist at the emotions in the old wizard's eyes: Grief, bitterness, guilt, relief, and what slowly became apparent as sheer exhaustion.

"Albus," she exclaimed suddenly, "Are you _dying_?" The old blue eyes widened slightly before closing. Brethany bit her lip as the mighty Dumbledore seemed to hunch into himself, shoulders trembling slightly with what could just as well have signified laughter as sobs.

"Are we not all dying?" the headmaster asked slowly, staring downward. "Ah, but that's why life should be so treasured, Brethany." The old form suddenly straightened, and the young woman before him abruptly remembered why Albus was such a strong force in the Wizarding world. Icy blue eyes examined her thoughtfully. "Thank you for giving young Harry the opportunity to experience a loving family of his own. I am quite sure that you and yours can keep him safe and happy as you said." Dumbledore turned towards one of his many gadgets. "Thank you for informing me of this development." Brethany stared at the old wizard's back in shock.

"Albus-" she began, but was cut off by an imperious jerk of a hand. Stumbling slightly as she turned around, Brethany exited the office and walked down the staircase. Trembling, she leaned against the stone wall and stared down at the gargoyle guarding the entrance. "Is he disappointed in me? Is he regretting hiring me?" she asked it absently. "And…_should_ he be?" The stone statue provided no answer. The thought of Harry's joy now brought only a dim consolation.

Word Count: 5617


	25. Chapter 25

Previously…

i_"Albus," she__ exclaimed suddenly, "Are you b__**dying**__/b__?" The old blue eyes widened slightly before closing. Brethany bit her lip as the mighty Dumbledore seemed to hunch into himself, shoulders trembling slightly with what could just as well have signified laughter as sobs._

"_Are we not all dying?" the headmaster asked slowly, staring downward. "Ah, but that's why life should be so treasured, Brethany." The old form suddenly straightened, and the young woman before him abruptly remembered why Albus was such a strong force in the Wizarding world. Icy blue eyes examined her thoughtfully. "Thank you for giving young Harry the opportunity to experience a loving family of his own. I am quite sure that you and yours can keep him safe and happy as you said." Dumbledore turned towards one of his many gadgets. "Thank you for informing me of this development." Brethany stared at the old wizard's back in shock._

"_Albus-" she began, but was cut off by an imperious jerk of a hand. Stumbling slightly as she turned around, Brethany exited the office and walked down the staircase. Trembling, she leaned against the stone wall and stared down at the gargoyle guarding the entrance. "Is he disappointed in me? Is he regretting hiring me?__" she asked it absently. "And…b__**should**__/b__ he be?" The stone statue provided no answer. The thought of Harry's joy now brought only a dim consolation._/i

And now…

Brethany was avoiding Albus. It was the week of term finals, so it wasn't very difficult to do, but she was still quite conscious of what she was doing, and why. Harry had quickly gotten over the high of knowing he would never return to the Dursleys', but now he was having some small concerns over his status as Brethany's ward. During the meals she actually dared to show up to, half the teenager's time at the table was spent darting wary glances her way, and the other half darting nervous glances at the Headmaster. The boy was rather obviously stressed out; between his new status as Brethany's ward, Dumbledore's possible anger, and it being finals week, he was surviving mostly on sheer stubborn nerves. Brethany had offered her office as a quiet place to study for all his exams, but he had not yet taken her up on it.

She had snagged a copy of his test schedule; it was rather intense, but doable. The young woman was briefly relieved that she'd been home schooled, then remembered that she had subjected herself to double-apprenticeships which consisted of almost non-stop testing, and immediately felt no sympathy for her students. Well, very little sympathy. In truth, she was just as glad for the term to be finished as the students, and almost as stressed; she had to create tests for every year, and grade literally hundreds of final papers. For the papers, she had a couple Ravenclaws to grade the younger years, but she still had to check them and do the rest herself. She was up until late hours in her quarters marking up papers and tests, trying to make sure each one was graded fairly, and criticisms were not too biting. Unlike Severus, Brethany believed in blunt truth and simple encouragement; with some students, however, it was difficult to not be utterly scathing in response to the most idiotic inaccuracies. The little bit of sympathy for stressed students quickly dwindled.

It was late at night after the first day of testing. Brethany had just finished grading the first and fourth years' tests and the fifth years' papers, and was mostly satisfied with her students' work. There were more than a few who would need extra tutoring the following term, and several who needed to go back to remedial writing classes to learn how to write a paper, but it was an overall good first day of testing. Now she was hungry. The young woman had eaten very little at supper; the rest of the teachers had started to realize something was going on between herself and Albus, and the concerned looks had stymied her appetite quite thoroughly. It was now near midnight, and Brethany's stomach was demanding nourishment, so she headed for the kitchens.

As soon as the kitchen door swung open, a wave of excited house elves rushed at her, but Brethany was distracted by the sight of half a dozen Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs gathered round one of the kitchen tables. Large mugs of coffee were scattered across the table among piles of neatly scripted class notes and books; bowls of half-eaten pudding kept stacks of parchment from flying away; quills and ink pots dotted the chaos intermittently. The students didn't even notice her presence until she stood behind Neville Longbottom, who was chewing ravenously on his quill as he tiredly pondered notes on Care of Magical Creatures.

"You all look terribly busy," she spoke almost directly into the teenager's ear, and smirked vindictively when the poor boy jerked in his seat. Harry, who was leaning his head down on the opposite end of the table, peered in annoyance at her from between two piles of parchment; Ron was beside him, barely conscious but striving to copy down one last line from someone's notes. Two seventh year Ravenclaws only cast her tiny glances, barely acknowledging her existence. Hermione and Susan Abbott looked up long enough to nod in greeting before returning to their study of Astronomy charts. Brethany patted Neville on the shoulder in apology before turning to the eager as ever house elves.

"Could I get a mug of coffee, two lumps of sugar, with a generous splash each of cream and whiskey?" She cast a careful eye on the students, who very intelligently did not comment on the last ingredient. "And a bowl of bread pudding with raisins and clotted cream?" Several studious heads popped up in interest at that, and the teacher could not help but laugh at their starved expressions. "Eat your own pudding; don't waste it. Starving children in Africa, and all that." Hermione snorted and Harry shook his head in faint amusement; the others, purebloods and halfbloods all, looked at her blankly. Brethany pulled another chair up to the table and began sipping her coffee as she awaited her pudding.

"You have your DADA final tomorrow afternoon," she observed to the seventh year Ravenclaws. The two nodded in affirmation. "Do you have any last questions before then? I won't give you this opportunity any other time before the test, so ask now." They exchanged glances before carefully perusing their study sheets.

"One o' your study terms is _Levina Organa_, but we couldna' find much on it in the library," the girl of the pair spoke up with a light Irish brogue. "And it's ne'er a sign o' it in our notes." The young man beside her nodded emphatically.

"That's because I taught it by the more common name, _Orpheus' Arms_," Brethany explained, resting her chin on her arms as she spoke. "I put the other term on the board when I taught, but not everyone caught it when I pointed it out." There were a few other questions in a similar vein, but they were Ravenclaws – their notes were quite extensive and sufficient for any last minute cramming sessions.

Brethany sat in silence, eating her pudding with weary pleasure as she watched the students mutter back and forth over potions ingredients, constellations, Arithmancy equations, and offensive maneuvers. It was rather pleasant to see a cramming session from the other side of the table, so to speak…Before she was even aware of it, Harry was beside her, smiling in tired amusement as he shook her awake.

"We're going back to our common rooms," he explained quietly, then yawned widely. "Ron and I have a CoMC test just after breakfast." Another yawn. "You'd best go to your rooms before you fall asleep walking…" They both yawned together.

"Try not to get caught," Brethany warned sleepily, then staggered off to bed. She managed it without falling asleep on her feet, but she would never be able to remember making the journey from the kitchen to her rooms. It wasn't until several days later that she realized she had to have gone up at least three flights of moving stairs in that half-asleep daze.

Such was the end of day one on the term finals week. The Christmas holidays were just around the corner…

Author's Note: I thought I would do a short chapter, since the last one was so long. I wanted to give a brief cameo of a cramming session – which surely must happen at every school – and give a little insight into Brethany's worries and cares.


End file.
